I started this blog to chronicle a journey that I didn’t understand so that when i am on the other side of it I can look back and remember where I’ve been and then move on. I fear today, just one day past my one month anniversary I have slid backwards in my recovery. It’s my mom’s birthday, it’s Inauguration Day, MLK day, by all accounts it should be a good day. And, after a rather successful Sunday of completing an assignment on time, reading tons on global feminism and even watching my favorite new TV show, I went to bed refusing to let the melancholy tiptoeing around my house in the front door. It’s hard being back at my house alone. Jason visits, my mom stayed a night and while I like my space and I want to be here and I don’t particularly want a ton of visitors so I can focus on work there is a sense of loneliness in being here, not just when in recovery though it seems particularly present then. So I sit with this loneliness and see what it teaches me. But last night? No dice. I wouldn’t let it in. So I went to bed and rather carelessly woke up, of course after snoozing my alarm about 50 times. Checked Facebook and twitter (@srajabi) as is my habit and then leapt out of bed to go see my mom on my birthday. I didn’t feel in any immediate pain waking up and was only reminded I’m in recovery by my Facebook friends sending me one month love. Well, in all my excitement to spend a day with my family I got up too fast, got to the bathroom too fast, took a shower leaned up against the wall waiting for the pounding to stop while water drizzled past me. Blah. I was in more physical pain then I have been in a few days.
Perhaps it was that I had nothing to distract me. Perhaps it is that I am now alone with my pain. Jason has gone to work, I have no school today, work is handled so it’s just me and my pain. Hoping quietly as we figure out why the universe thinks this is so funny. I’ll get the last laugh though, I know I will.
So well I thought I’d wake up at 7:30 and race to my mom with birthday breakfast in bed I lay here, in a towel, soaking wet, in my bed. The Nespresso induced alertness kept me up all night (Yes! I bought a Nespresso, it’s a medical expense, the doctor told me to drink caffeine!!!! So just be quiet about it, it’s totally economical over time…) and then my pain sent me back to bed. I sit here, with nothing but my writing to distract me from my pain until I am ready to let it go. It’s a sign that I still have healing to do before this part of life’s journey becomes a distant memory, just a trace of life in brief conversations. We’re not there yet, but we will be. In the meantime, I’ll write and I’ll patiently wait, for the pain to release me, so I can go home.
Peace and love-