On Being Sick, and Having FRIENDS…
Not much has happened since my last post, including seeing a specialist about whatever condition I have. I still haven’t left my house apart from going for check-ups, (and to pick the fruits Miss Vee brought me, lol), eating minimally, and symptoms come and go except for the stabbing foot pain. Some days are better than others. A couple of days I managed to clean my house and do laundry in the same day, but that was a special condition. Any physical activity is accompanied with extreme fatigue afterwards. I am currently nursing an illness of unknown origin.
To date, I only have a vague sense of what it is – that it’s a bug on my left foot and it’s a total B. My mood or something akin to it has been sporadic as of late, a sign of an undesired pattern from years past. The more cheerful side of me says that at the very least, I am more aware now and can manage to cope smarter this time around. Meanwhile, my lesser-favored half is screaming, “stop with the toxic positivity! Let’s call a spade a spade and admit that this fucking sucks!” I am with the latter. Honestly, I do not have it in me to think positive at the moment, though I commend my ego for keeping my feelings in check.
I must admit too that I am grateful for my friends who are currently caring for me despite the distance, or lack of it thereof. In this short (but effed up) season, I am in need of company, little love and care, which they continue to give in abundance. I may or may not have shed some little tears the last few days. This “mbogi”, as we constantly refer to our little outfit, keep me anchored, grounded, safe, secure. What would I be without them.
I may be wearing myself thin, I’m not sure anymore. I may be exerting too much effort. Maybe, I should reel in some of the pieces back in to help myself. At present, I might feel quite helpless. And lonely. but thats not the case because of the great friends I have. The physical illness magnifies the loneliness. It’s not fair. It happens, I say. The fact that it happens annoys me to no end.
Can’t the anxiety, depression, and all the other shit just sign up for early retirement and just leave me be? Hand over the peace you’ve held hostage for all this time. Why must I settle for morsels of it, for just crumbs? Life isn’t kind to me that way. I have to accept that I am only human. Two steps forward, one step back is OK. It should be OK.
In my journey to introspection, I stumbled upon old lyrics, prose, and even an unfinished short story from 2019. 2019! I’ve forgotten that many versions of myself live on in these saved Word documents, yellowing paper, and buried notepads on my old Mac. Now, I am attempting to discontinue the story. We’ll see where that takes me. Here are two lines from the piece I wrote in 2019:
Is it possible to experience more intimacy with God without going through trials? Can I trust Him to bring into my path that which will bring about my needed growth? I don’t want to stagnate, rot, mold, or wither. I want to grow, blossom, produce fruit and seed, and reproduce. So . . . I don’t have to dread or fear trials, but I don’t have to ask for them either. God knows exactly what I need to increase my trust and dependence on Him. Just be a Mary, He says, and sit at His feet.
Lets forget about the rest of the old lyrics. Hoping for a better tomorrow. Always…