The last five days were hell. I was in so much pain 24/7.
I smoked a lot, but it barely touched the pain.
Is this how I want to spend the rest of my days? Only using my left hand minorly? I can't lose the function in my arm. I just can't. I'm a writer. I need to feel of the keys under my fingertips to write. I need the noise, the pattern that the keys make as they tat, tat, tat across the screen. It fuels my writing.
When I think that I may lose that it deeply saddens me.It's easy to feel defeated with this disorder. I find myself crying at least once a day. It's not that I'm feeling sorry for myself. It's just that I'm so very tired of the pain. It's exhausting. I don't sleep well at night and I spend my days trying to look for distractions, or at the very least, something that will make my heart laugh. I think that's the best thing one can do when in a chronic pain situation.
Look for the good.
So, every morning I wake up next to a beautiful man. I thank the lucky stars for him. He makes me feel treasured and tortured all in the same breath. He reminds me to feel the good moments so that they can carry over into the bad. And that's a beautiful feeling. It's a beautiful feeling to feel alive even when parts of me feel dead.
Channeling that energy helps me stay positive and not get carried away to the dark side of pain. The dark will creep up on you, attack you when you least suspect it and sink it's teeth into your neck. Like a vicious dog it's intent is to tear your sanity to pieces. Your job is not to let it.