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#Today

image from lionhearteagle.blogspot.com –

“Finish each day and be done with it.  You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can.  Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Today

Today I gave in. For one brief moment which lasted an eternity I gave in. My body keeps going but my mind, that part which recognises the pain and despair; it had decided it had more than enough.  It said, “No More, Enough is Enough”.

Am I a quitter, I asked myself? I always thought I was strong and capable. I believed I could handle anything. I’ve heard of worse things than people should ever be expected to go through and felt their pain as I listened. I’ve seen some horrors I never thought I’d see and dealt with them as I needed to. I blindly walked through the path of domestic violence because I refused to believe it was happening to me.  I handled what was put before me and came through scarred but still me.

How do you explain to someone that, you thought that, being married meant “supporting your husband” and that everything he said you “had to do”, you had no choice in? I’ve carried bricks like a brickies labourer, carted cement like a concreter’s labourer. I’ve carried and rolled thousands of square metres of turf, barrowed topsoil and leveled it, built walls, sawn and carried timber and a hundred other things because, that’s what being married was all about. Doing things together and supporting your husband. It meant I was a slave to someone’s “ownership of me”.  Until the day my eyes were opened and I finally had enough and left.

#Today

image from facebook.com

What caused my back problems?

Yes, I’ve had two ‘minor’ car accidents and according to the ‘experts’ I had two “minor” whiplash episodes. They were so minor they refused to accept how much pain I had nor would they perform an x-ray. For years they refused until one day they relented, just to shut me up. Too damned late then and being proven right didn’t help at all.

Is it irony to acknowledge that in the beginning I was young and fit? Is it irony to say that because I went to the gym regularly, not only for fitness but as a stress release, that I damaged my body by doing too much exercise?  Is it irony to now say that my condition is age related? Are there any more excuses they can think up?

I believed, for one brief interlude, that being diagnosed with Lyme disease might answer all the questions, and eventually see me well. Now, since Lyme disease does not exist in Australia, (so say the powers that be), and my doctor, who specialised in infectious diseases, is actually registered only as a General Practitioner. He made a video announcing his treatment of his Lyme disease patients which caught the eyes of the Medical Association. Well, now he is restricted (banned) from treating anyone diagnosed with Lyme disease. They must be referred to someone else for treatment. Excuse me, treatment? How can they do that if they deny it exists in Australia? How much irony can one body take?

#Today

image from http://www.josephine wallart.co.uk

In one sense it doesn’t matter whether it is irony or not. No longer can the facts be argued. But what can never be ignored is the fact that they now say there is nothing they can do except load me with pain killers which rob me of the ability to think or act as the person I really am.

This morning I had reached the end of the road. At the moment of waking, a screaming throughout my body, of the pain of lying still, of having the chain mail weight of a light sheet and blanket over me was too much. Having to plead with my husband to PULL me quickly upright instead of gently brought an anguished scream from me.  Enough I thought, I’ve had enough.

But the end was too far away. If I didn’t want to soil myself I had to reach the bathroom. No dignity here.  Each painful slide of a foot forward speared pain up through every part of my body and into my brain. Two damned, bloody steps up that I loathe more deeply each day and then fifty agonising steps to the bathroom later, there is more pain. By the time I reach the vanity basin to wash my hands, I would breathe a sigh of relief, but I tried that once and it hurts too much. So I just think it instead.

The retracing of my journey is the same except going down those two damned stairs becomes a farce. ‘Enough’ my mind screams at me. ‘Enough’ I say! I would cry, but self-pity is useless and apart from that, crying is too damned painful. More irony!

I want an end to this. I want to be able to walk again, just like I used to. I want to be able to laugh and smile and not know that it is just a cover for how I really feel. I want to not feel that I’m an ingrate for complaining when so many are worse off than I.  I have too much to be grateful for.

I have a husband I love more than I would have believed possible. I have two wonderful children who have become incredible adults. I have a roof over my head. I have a beautiful ocean to see from my deck (if I can get there) and I have my beautiful orchids which are flowering again. I also have ‘my’ owl who visits me even here. I have too many things to be grateful for and no right to talk about giving up. I am reminded daily of how many wonderful things I have in my life to be grateful for. I have a journal I complete daily to remind me, if I should forget. I am grateful.

Today, I have had enough. Today this is too much to handle. Today I want an end to this. Today I want an end – not in some unknown future but now. Now. Today.

In the event that anyone needs an explanation; the beautiful pictures from Josephine Wall Art are to symbolise that I recognise that even in the midst of a shitty and awful day, I know that beauty and Spirit exists. It is there to help me to grasp that reality and find an even footing to go forward with. I hope it may help some of you also.

Today is almost over and tomorrow, my new today will be better, if only because I have coping mechanisms in place to haul me out of those depths before I drown. This is my fervent hope.

There are those who will understand my words, inexpertly written as they are, yet this is not for them alone. It is for everyone who decides to read it.

To those I say:

Blessings always,  Susan x

© Susan Jamieson 2014

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