I am really very shocked and disappointed in myself sometimes when I am forced to admit to myself that after all these years I haven’t been able to make a peace with the bedridden and excruciating times… although they are far too frequent than I like.
You would think with all this practice I would be further down the road. But I’m not.
Every moment that I am laying in bed and fighting, my heart and mind wonders to things I would rather be doing.
It is harder when the weather is quite nice or it is a special day where it would be nice to be out in the garden, celebrating or doing something more than just aching and writhing.
I want to make it a goal to be better during these times.
‘Better’ means less sad. Better means less heart sick. Better means not torturing myself about all that I am missing out on. Better means not feeling like a lesser human being. Better means not feeling forsaken and cursed.
It might seem irrational to many healthy people that these thoughts can plague an otherwise rational mind, but they do.
It is the invisible torture chamber that I occupy; alone.
Here is where many torturous thoughts and feelings are burned into my emotional skin, and it makes a hard time almost unbearable.
I want to do better.
I need to do better.
Perhaps the fact that I want it means that it is a good starting point. But I feel the way that early man must have felt when looking up to the night sky and wondering to himself “how do I get there?…”
But I know I want to get there. It’s my only life and I know that I have to try and make it work one way or another… even with these diseases.