Alright so I've been in bed predominantly for over a week, getting up and moving about hurts my legs which are weak and shaking. Pain is pretty intolerable, and I have a doctor's appointment on Monday, it is compliments of the last drug I was prescribed failing miserably. I am hoping that my car is solid enough to drive to it, but I can't blame Brent if he can't get this done. All I know, all I know is that I can barely move.
I am smoking less, not because I am exactly trying to quit so much as I am loosing the joy of the the smoking. I suspect it is my health not being so great, or maybe I am simply growing tired of the habit. Either way I suspect that my time with all of this is shorter than perviously planned.
I'm drinking more water than I used to. I may not be eating as much or as healthy as I should, but I am doing the best that I can. My willpower and my optimism require my being close to my motorcycle, my tools, my family, and my friends. I may not be at top notch - but I am in control over as much as I am physically capable of. That is where my desire to keep going remains strong.
It's a hard pill to swallow, this idea of remaining like this - stuck in bed, in pain for I don't know how long. So I with this inner conflict. The idea of talking about the pain has always felt like a violation. The of talking openly about being disabled feels like a violation. The very idea of BEING disabled feels like a violation.
We are taught not to complain. Society re-enforces the fact that we should not complain. This feels like complaining. It's not complaining. I am in pain. I spend most of my time alone. I can't do any of the things that I enjoy. I can barely move most of the time. Is it still complaining when its the truth?
How many times have I said "I'm fine" when I was either ready to blow my brains out or shut down from extreme pain. How many years have I been trying to shine it on?
I'll keep trying to say I'm fine, and I'll keep trying to shine it on. But I need an outlet, and my journals just dont cut it anymore. So this is it. This and answering truthfully - if someone asks me how I'm doing, I now tell them.
It's the only way to save sanity.
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About Me
- Jack Greenman
- Cry Havoc and Let Slip the Dogs of War! But no, really, I'm a student to be a motorcycle mechanic, I'm 25, I write a lot, I eat less than I should, I sleep less than I should, but I like to get out and live. I don't drink, but I smoke a pipe. My sense of style is at Least 40 years out of date, I am who I am, and That's who I am.
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