The grief of a body that was never quite leaves us. You think that it will. And it will for a time. But there comes a day when things get worse and it can come back.
I sit outside watching the sun rise and listen to the sprinkle of rain hit the ground. It is peaceful but I am not at peace. I feel an almost tangible grief inside me. A heavy burden of it. I am tired. Pain radiates through me.
I try to plot out a day. What I may be capable of doing. What I need to do may not be possible so I ponder what my body can do today. What my legs may carry me today.
Don’t get me wrong, I do not grief a body that was whole and healthy. I am not sure I remember such a time. I do not grief a body in my 20s even where everything hurt to do and fatigue was so heavy in me. But I could do the things. And I did the things.
I grieve the body I had maybe seven years ago before the constant vertigo and before the drop foot and the weakness in my legs. Before the mobility issues. When I could do the things. Oh, the things hurt. But I paced and I planned and I did the things. I even worked part time, although that was difficult to do. Trust me, the stress of working was not something I remember fondly. The stresses on the mind, body and soul are burned into my memory. But the other things, I could do. Not with ease, but I could do them.
Now, well, plotting my day is a ponderous task indeed. What will my body let me to today? And if I do exercises that I must do to try to maintain some muscles and regain some endurance, well, then I can’t do anything else at all. Assuming I can even accomplish those- so-called exercises that a normal person would not even call exercise. So I must plan what to do. And the rest between. Each tiny task and rest. Carefully taken into account. Can I manage to walk far enough to go to the pharmacy today? Or not? Can I even walk up stairs today or not a good plan at all? What sort of cleaning can I do- if anything at all?
Can I Do the Things?
It is heavy.
And today, I grieve a little.
Today, I rest.
Today, I also start up this blog. That is a thing to be grateful for. Sometimes we miss looking at the things we can do, meaningful things, for the things we can’t. And I don’t want to do that.
YOU ARE TELLING MY LIFE STORY. GOD BLESS AND GENTLE HUGS. I ALSO WROTE A MANUSCRIPT CALLED HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL. PS: FYI —I AM NOT YELLING:::: AS I HAVE MULTI- PERSONALITY DISORDER. THE ADULTS USE ALL CAPS AND ETC. THE KIDS ONLY USE SMALL LETTERS. I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO READING MORE ABOUT YOUR STORY.
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Nice to meet you! I will keep in mind the all caps.
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