Hey, Miss J!

Bitter Pills

I can never seem to escape the drumming or ticking in my head. I was struck recently at how fast time is passing. Is it because I’m sleeping more? Am I more distracted? What is it?

My mornings are usually so full that when night approaches, most of what I can do involves me staring into space.

Returning to a more stable sleeping pattern is good.

Sometimes, like when I’m doing chores in the house, I can’t focus. You would think that by now with only one thing to focus on that I’d be able to do it, right? That’s not the case.

Instead, my head is filled with frantic – sometimes racing thoughts. I want to do so much, but I know that I can’t keep crossing the limits that my body has. When my back screams for me to stop, I have to.

When my knees threaten to give way, I have to sit or use my cane.

In the past, I’ve walked around with injured ankles, struggled and lifted still –despite having back problems. I was stared at once so much when I brought a cane with me that I endured limping for hours just so that other people were comfortable. I’ve stood and worked despite almost debilitating stomach problems – felt myself close to crumpling under crippling anxiety. Physically, I’ve pushed myself through intense shifts in temperature too… I’ve had days where I felt so cold that I just wanted to…

I wanted to find a spot that was warm and never leave.

I fell into the illusion that I was fine because as long as I had a “reason” for what I went through… it was fine. It was so hard to wake up and keep going when I had to deal with all of that. But I did. Because I had a purpose.

Or at least I thought I did.

No one else was there to see me when I’d creep into my car and just… cry. I’d howl and scream because of how much my body hurt, but inside also I grieved because of what I was losing. I absolutely hated what I turned myself into just to keep up some façade.

I used to chase my pain killers with coffee. Numbed, but energized… I could keep up the lie.

There are so many things I did in my past that I’m not proud of. Late at night, memories sometimes return, and I have to force the bitterness back down. In a way, it’s harder than taking my pills. My meds tend to come back up after I’ve swallowed them.

And I have to swallow them down again. Much like my past.

So…

How am I today?

Tired. I’m nearly done with physical therapy. I’ve returned to very light exercise – because my body can’t handle what I put myself through ten years ago. But after that’s done, what’s next? I can’t exactly reverse the damage that’s been done to me. All I can do is try to support the other discs in my back. And try not to think too much about the one that’s deteriorating on me…

Hopeful but also a bit frustrated. Remember that wall I mentioned? It’s still there, seemingly tougher than before. I can’t get too angry at all anymore, and even though agitation still transfers through in my voice, the emotions behind it are stilted.

The cloying depression I used to deal with seems like a terrible nightmare that I’m just now waking from. Can I get sad? Yes… But it’s different than it was before.

My creativity? I’m starting to feel an unsettling disconnect in my creative abilities. The desire is still there, but I’m having some problems getting there.

Other writers will understand this… There’s that emotional plane that you need to reach… so you can really wring out something you know will be good.

I can’t get close anymore without music. I hope that changes soon.

Anything else? Yeah… I’m feeling just a little bit heartbroken. I’m not entirely sure how to cope with this new feeling. I’ve never felt like this before and it’s scary. I’ve felt lonely before, but I’ve never felt heartsick for something that never was. Maybe pushing down the depression has allowed other things to float to the surface.

Maybe I can channel this into my next chapter of Open Arms.

Whenever that is.

At least I can still put on a convincing smile. I’ve had nearly twenty years to practice.

Sorry. I’m so sorry that this wasn’t a more positive update.

~ Miss J.

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