well. been awhile, i know. that's going to happen, i guess. it's morning right now. new day. Tuesday. I'm surprised I didn't write more last week, but writhing in pain on my bed for seven days did not motivate me to share much in the Journey. the slow, painful process of falling apart that is called 'aging' is often more than I want to bear, honestly. but i bear it, because that is what life has come to be; bearing up under the unpleasant weight of the day, because you do it one day at a time and happiness is in short supply right now.
life continues, though. I had a sciatica flare two Fridays ago. you think, in ridiculous fashion, that you're going through all the pain there is, and Life shows you there's always something more and new and fresh and agonizing. Can't stand without pain. Can't walk without agony. Can't sit without writhing. Can find a position on the bed, usually on the side or on the stomach, where the pain subsides. every action is negotiated because any action is a monumental task. going to the bathroom to pee means having to lean over on one side to lift the seat. taking a shit means sitting, sitting means writhing in pain. sitting to eat means writhing in pain, maybe screaming all through a meal. easier not to eat. no shower. no washing. no pain meds actually touch this thing, nothing the doctors are willing to part with anymore. is it a punishment? is it merited for past misdeeds forgotten? is it torture? it's torturous. and in a pandemic, it is clarifying. you could kill yourself and no one would really know. you could just be sleep. the mail carrier might eventually smell something un-good and call someone. the mice would likely find sustenance before you were hauled away. thoughts go that dark when you can't walk for the pain.
found days of forcing myself to cook. dinner has to double as tomorrow's breakfast. coffee becomes a luxury, often unaffordable. strange, this pain. and as time passes, it becomes tricky. it's not there. what took it away? i can walk! but only an illusion; too long on my feet shows the error of my judgment. back to writhing. back to screaming, crying, confessing my sins and shortcomings. almost 8 straight days of this. Lonnie is a godsend. so is my mother. food comes. i eat in bed, unable to sit at the kitchen table or on the couch in the living room, six feet away from my bed. but i eat. then i force myself to walk on the razor blades installed in my hip, down my leg and around my lower spine, to the kitchen to put leftovers away. the mice can have the crumbs; i'll not share my dinner with them.
Now? still hurting some, but not entirely. thankful to Jehovah. but it's still there, dull, waiting. arch on the right foot is aching, burns with gout and a touch of neuropathy as well. i will go in spite of it. have to make money to pay bills. the human dynamic, what truly separates us from the animals. not as many, not anymore. i am blessed, no luck exists any longer. that false god has fallen.
managed to finish a book cover for BITTER MIND that made it through the approval process. so my book is for sale. good thing. another product that can be ignored. but there are some very nice, strong stories in it. not all of it. some of it is sheer sensationalism, sheer flight of dark fancy. but there is truth in it, because i wove myself into much of the fabric of these stories. my mind is brittle, anyway. it was not a hard write. even the last story, the superheroes breaking the 5th wall, is included, and actually runs pretty cool. but no one will buy it. well. FEW will bother to buy it, and few will share the accessibility of it. that's okay. i'm going to play the game, keep it moving. maybe i've got some other things in mind for self-promotion. just need a little extra dosh.
listening to Miles, 'Sketches of Spain'. perfect jazz work, lovely horn work & compositions. good to ponder to. not rushing. no reason to. just have to go to work, get one client, take him to his appointment, take him home, then try not to be a lazy motherfucker. a short walk. wash the van. clean it on the inside. run it through a wash if the day isn't too rainy. wait til 4pm and call it a day. nothing heavy, nothing stressful. i'm okay with that, today. or any changes to that itinerary. just don't want to be laying in pain today.
a thing, though. last week was the Memorial for Jehovah's Witnesses. an acknowledgment of the Passover supper shared by Jesus with his disciples. always something different with the Witnesses. acknowledged by all but not participated in as far as the bread and wine. only the 'anointed' partake of the items. but, talking to my mother yesterday (her 78th completed journey around the sun) she stated it was the 'last Memorial', that the JW would not have anymore. that the events of the now indicate the Last Days of this system of things. it makes one think, if one is inclined to think. and I am. I said a long time ago, i just want to do the best i can in this life; if the end comes and I am still unaffiliated, i'd take with me the knowledge that I lived as close to bible principles as i was able to. Now? well, now i don't know. now, i know i haven't done enough. but maybe I have; who am i to judge me, and by what yardstick could I? i can only judge myself in comparison to myself, and that is useless.
so, I thank Jehovah for a life lived. for it's ups and downs, for all the learning and for the lessons that didn't take. for all the friends, for my mentor/sponsor, for my sobriety. for my children and grandson. I thank Jehovah for allowing me to be a spirit...and to be human.
Aspire Higher.
No comments:
Post a Comment