Abide

banging heart

I read Me and Ophelia today with stunned respect -- for the courage of disclosure; for the easing of my own pain, through recognition; through affiliation -- unchosen, to be sure, but there nonetheless.  Her openness has eased my solitude, and I am grateful for that.

She says:

The imprisonment of long term chronic illness and loneliness is getting to me these past few days. I shall be glad when it is all over. Christmas I mean. I think. Although I wouldn't be at all disappointed if I went to sleep and never woke up again. I am always very grateful and appreciative of people's kindness and all the help I am given. But at times it does not seem worth it. Solitary confinement is no kind of life at all. My battle is unknown. There is no treatment or cure. They put animals down for lesser suffering. At least I have Ophelia to keep me company. If only she could speak ...

Following her example, I am posting a late-night ramble written sometime in the past few days (I actually don't remember when.)  But I am putting it below the cut:

Solstice Card

02004 Solstice Letter

Falling

Well, I've managed to fall up the stairs.  I've done this before, and I know there is likely to be a several-day consequence of pain and stiffness. 

This blog has a small readership, mostly of other folks with this illness, and I'm wondering -- do you do this, too?  A moment of inattention; a hurried, thoughtless motion -- and down I go.  I will do all the right things, a hot bath, and perhaps an extra pain pill before sleep; maybe I can escape the payback.  Sometimes I can. 

This is a drag, isn't it?  At least I've been reminded, again, to pay attention; to be in the moment.