whiny wednesday

Sometimes the pain doesn't go away, you know?

Sometimes people aren't healed and sometimes dreams don't come true and sometimes our loved ones pass away and bad things do happen to good people.

And I'm not just being doom and gloom today... I'm just taking a realistic look at the world around me.

One sweet friend has been diagnosed with MS.

One sweet friend has a husband who is facing a likely amputation of his leg.

One sweet friend had to move far away and is homesick.

One sweet customer lost her father.

And me... well, I don't feel so good myself.

The truth is that there IS suffering in this world. There are people carrying burdens that are simply too heavy for them to bear on their own. There is heartbreak. There is loneliness. There is poverty. There is sickness. There is natural disaster. There is meanness.

I think if we paint the world with a broad "rainbows and glitter" paint brush and consider people less of a Christian or less than faithful because they ARE suffering... that we miss the mark that Jesus set for us.

We are commanded to bear one another's burdens... and we can't know the burden is too heavy until someone shares their hurt.

Sometimes we need to acknowledge the hurt.

Sometimes I really just need to come right out and say that I dread every single work day because I know it will hurt. Wearing the heart monitor has shown me what I suspected all along: my heart races when I get to the office because I know that sooner or later, while I'm sitting there doing the work that I'm trained to do, I'm going to be in pain and there is NOTHING I can do about it.

Sometimes I have to humble myself enough to say that I have deep seated fears about reaching a point where I'm no longer able to be productive because of the pain. There are times that the pain is a distraction and I don't perform up to the level that is expected... and I feel like a failure.

The truth is... there are days that I am suffering and I feel like I need to get a gold star on my calendar for toughing it out for 8 hours. But... the reality is that there's no reward for "showing up". There's no reward for getting up every day and doing what is expected of you. That's just mediocrity.

And I know there are several of you that are feeling that way... that what other people see as "the least you can do" is really the most you can do.

I know that there are times that pain and suffering - whether physical or emotional - isolate you from others. That's why they say that misery loves company, I guess.

And I want you to know, fellow sufferers, that I'm here for you. Email me, message me on facebook, send me a snail mail... whatever... let me know that you're feeling alone in your pain and your suffering and I will stand by you.

Sometimes that's enough - just knowing you're not alone.

This morning Austin and I were both awake at 3 am so sometime after 4am we decided to make a major grocery store run. We got child support yesterday so it was a good time. We stocked up. He very sweetly and responsibly took over the chore of putting the groceries away. I may find peanut butter under the sink and eggs in the pantry, but he did it. And I don't have to face that overwhelming, painful task for at least a week, praise God.

I'm taking lyrica now instead of neurontin. They increased my lyrica by six times the strength I was taking. It knocks me out... so I can only take it in the evening, missing half the dose.

My tachycardia was bothersome yesterday. My heart rate ranged from 90 to 125 all day. Sixty would be healthy... 85 is an indication of a problem - poor health. It wears me out... and I'm now realizing just how often my heart is beating too fast and I have no idea how long it's been that way. What I thought was anxiety back during the Darby Daze might very well have been tachycardia. Not that he didn't make me anxious - because believe me, I walked on eggshells. But I know that I've felt this way for awhile.

Anyways... sometimes just letting someone know how you're feeling makes you feel better. It's why I blog... so that I'm not alone in my pain and suffering. Thank you for being willing to share my burdens. I'll gladly share yours in return.

Love and hugs, y'all...