There are days in life that have the potential to permanently alter the course of your future for the better; days that could make some of the things that you live with easier from that point onward; days with the ability to get the ball rolling towards some positive, long overdue change. Yes, there are days like that.
But sometimes those days instead end only with missed opportunity; another lengthy appointment with disappointment, and another added mark on your overflowing wall of let downs and discouragements. Those days that, instead of giving you a piece of your life back – no matter how small – end with you being left to go back and suffer endlessly, in the same painful reality, once again feeling defeated and abandoned by the only people with the power to truly make a difference in your life.
The 8 long months leading up to that day passed me by in slow succession: cloaked in a bleak and melancholy air that hung heavy over and all around me. The weeks were almost entirely marked only by the increasingly debilitating and all-consuming pain in my lower spine that brought about the need for that day in the first place. Things were consistently deteriorating right before my eyes, and I was frighteningly often struggling desperately just to pull myself out of bed each day.
While time passed and I waited, I forced my mind not to linger too long or too often on the possibilities of that coming day, which sadly – experience has taught me, over and over – would most likely end in the exact disappointment, frustration and – should I allow it – devastation, that it did. Or, worse than letting my mind focus on the fear of things ending badly, I couldn’t let the hope in. If you have hope it only hurts so much worse when that hope is shattered. I couldn’t take the crippling pain of getting your hopes up and then having them destroyed, on top of everything else.
But, I did get my hopes up a bit – I couldn’t help it, it’s all that I had to prop me up. And so, as hard as I tried not to let it, some hope did manage to find it’s way in. But, I think that was what had carried me these last months through all of the pain: that little bit of hope that maybe someone was about to help find a way to lessen it for the first time, and that maybe this person would finally be the one. My fears about hope ended up being perfectly reasonable in the end - despite not having all that much of it to begin with, it was still a devastating thing to have and then lose.
I’m back at home now, back to my reality, and that day has gone and passed. The pain continues on in the same ever-worsening way that it has for the past 10 years – exactly one half – of my life, while my body continues to fall apart in a constant string of new and unexpected ways. And that day is ever further behind me, without having given me anything to help carry me forward. And, now, sometimes, I don’t know how I’m going to be able to. But yet, somehow I do.
*I’ll write more about what exactly went on at the appointment in my next post.
Sorry it’s been so long again, things have been tough.
Lots of love to you all. ♥