A lot of the time, I struggle with how to describe how I'm feeling. I'm never sure of how honest to be with people, even those I love....especially those I love. If I share too much and really let them know how I feel, I fear that I will just bring them down, mire them in this misery with me. And at the same time, I don't want to keep them in the dark either. It is such a fine line, a wicked and sharp line to walk; when deciding just how honest to be.
My pain has been getting increasingly worse as of late. This, in spite of my trip to the Cleveland Clinic. I have faith that some of the good works and ideas that were reached during that trip are still very solid and very much worth pursing. What I don't have faith in are the people that discriminate because I have a disease, because I happen to require special accommodations and then drill me down with stress and strain and drown me. I am trying to stay positive, all the while looking for a new home, a new place to firmly put down roots. I am hopeful that it will happen - I just pray that it will happen soon. Very soon!
In the meantime, my husband told me to hang in there tonight - that "you're amazing!". After giving me some encouragements, and telling me that I am able to overcome anything - look at what I've done, I couldn't help but start to cry. It started with the very dignified single tear down my cheek, but soon it was a full-force waterfall. I have been waking up at 3 a.m. every night for the past 5 nights - despite all sorts of medicines to help me stay asleep and my pain more in-check at night. Come 3 a.m. - I wake up and feel as though my bones are breaking. It feels like there are razor blades working their way out of my body - my hips, my knees, my ankle. I feel wrecked and completely unable to get into a comfortable position. This has not only exhausted me, but worn me down and continued to chip away at what little armor I have left.
I finally calmed down enough to tell him the most intelligible thing that I could. I feel as though I am a runaway train - and not a slow moving just sort of going away down the track- but a screaming fast, racing locomotive flying past the landscape. And while the train has been racing out of control, with no one at the controls for some time now I can't help but wonder when, WHEN we will run out of track? Frankly, I have felt as though I've been pushed to my limit for over 2 years now...and I keep breaking through and pushing on to new levels and soldiering on. That simply can't go on. I know that it is just a basic principle of me not having the reserves to do it another year, five, ten, lifetime. I simply can't watch the landscape race by and not worry about the impact that is bound to happen. At the end of this, I can't help but think that there will be twisted metal and smoking charred carnage. I am bracing for it, and I feel it building inside....I'm just scared to know what and when it will mean the end of the line. And when I think about it - I see it in black and white. I think and dream and do a lot in black and white these days....I'm not sure what that means.....
