A Better New Year

This year has gone by like lightning. There were moments in the beginning of 2011 when I prayed for time to multiply, but as I look back now, it's all a blur, and that frightens me somewhat. I haven't savored every moment, and so many hours have passed with seemingly no purpose.

But that's the way it goes when you live with chronic pain, at least for me. Every moment of every day I am evaluating how I feel, and negotiating when to take my next pill. I wonder what tomorrow's pain will be like, and what I will be able to accomplish, if anything. My standard of accomplishments has been whittled down. Whereas I once wanted to get my Master's degree, now my goals are simpler, such as getting the laundry done, or venturing out to the grocery store.

I've painted a pretty bleak picture for myself, but lately I've been wondering how I can be a better artist. What can I change to make this better? I shoot myself down a lot because I know there is no cure for what I have, therefore there is no direct link to make the bad stuff go away. But surely there must be something I can do to change aspects of my life that link to the original problem. Pain begets depression, depression begets self-loathing, and self-loathing f**ks with everything.

So, I am counting my blessings. I've always recognized how fortunate I am to have such a wonderful, healthy child, and a mother who has faithfully been in my corner, but lately it means so much more. For instance, I wouldn't trade my child for anything, including good health. If it weren't for her, I couldn't get through this, and just being with her brings me so much joy that I can laugh and smile through any amount of physical or emotional distress. There is absolutely nothing that could replace her. There are many people who can't say that. So many people who can't have children, or do have them and don't fully appreciate them. Even though I am hyper sensitive and I may experience more sadness than others, the flip side is that I can reap pleasure from the smallest things. Raising a child is one of those momentous pleasures, but I am also recognizing the joy of hearing a favorite tune on the radio, or recalling a situation that made me laugh long ago, and makes me laugh still. Works of art, whether visual or auditory, or something that feels good to the touch, make me feel lucky to be alive to appreciate their beauty. I love the smell of honeysuckle.

A few amazing moments can add up to a lifetime of positivity.  My plan is to seize upon those amazing moments, rather than dwelling on the not-so-great ones. Time is going to pass regardless of my health or my disposition, so I may as well make it count.

Neuropathy