My People

My People
My matched set of grandchildren - Oliver and Cosette

Friday, January 24, 2014

Blazing A Trail

This blog entry brought to you courtesy of copious amounts of generic Mucinex. I have crud in my chest. My nose is a faucet. I've sneezed enough today to need depends. The evil gut pain is relentless. And there's this pesky back problem that I may have mentioned a few times in the past three years. I feel like I have broken glass in my tailbone. (I could have taken the easy route and said that it feels like broken glass in my a$$ but that would be crass. *snort*)

My cousin is getting married tomorrow. On the southside of Atlanta. Two hours there... two hours back. Fortunately I can hitch a ride with my brother and sister-in-law and the red-headed dolls. Unfortunately tomorrow is not looking good for getting out of the house. Or, I could wake up feeling ten feet tall and bullet proof. Yeah, right.

Dear Social Security: People who are in too much pain to go to weddings and funerals and dinners out (especially a girl who loves dining out SO much that she looks up restaurant menus online - for restaurants in other cities/states/countries) are in too much pain to work. I'm jus' sayin'. Approve my claim already.

I've had to distance myself from guilt in these situations. If it was up to me I'd do a whole lot more. I want to be there for all the special things in life but I'd also like to be there for the basketball games and the church services and well, work. It is really hard to stay on an even keel and not get really down and discouraged about the fact that my body is aging faster than my mind and my heart. There's so much I would love to do but I can't add guilt to the grief of not being who and how I want to be. I say that because I don't want anyone to ever think that they just aren't important enough for me to be present in their life. I'm barely able to be present in my own life at this point.

Whenever I make plans I immediately start becoming anxious about whether or not I'll feel like following through when the time comes. Therefore I rarely ever plan to do anything. And then when the time comes and I possibly could spontaneously partake of some outside of the Whine Cellar activity... I think, well, I'm not expected so why bother.

I'm not saying any of this to complain. I mean, yes, this is a complaint but there's a larger point here. It seems like for every stage of life there is a "What To Expect..." or Dummies book to help you through that process but truly, we learn more about what we're going through by our peers. I graduated high school early, started working full time and  got married while my friends were going to prom and on their Senior trips. I had babies before most of my friends. But still, in all of these milestones, there was someone around who was in the same boat and I was always able to find someone to commiserate with me. This whole disability thing is really a brave new lonely world. If you felt like joining a support group, you'd feel like going to work. So when I complain, yes, I'm whining about my own situation but I'm also blazing a trail for those who find their body wearing out before it's supposed to. I'll be right here waiting for you.

We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Happy Weekend, y'all. Love and hugs.