Tonight I'm feeling overwhelmed and a little bit disheartened. I had a good day today, and the pain wasn't too bad. I had to take pain killers this morning, when I got out of bed, but that was the only time I took them. Certain twists and turns hurt after that, but that is all. I normally handle the random days like that well. I had a couple while in Louisiana, and managed to power through them with no doctor. My neighbor was a nurse and came over the second time. Yesterday was extreme, though, and so I went in.
It's not that I can't handle it, but it just becomes exhausting. I get sick of not being able to eat something without thinking it may put me in the hospital. I want to be able to enjoy my life worry free.
But that's part of what shapes us, isn't it? The things we go through and how we handle them? I guess sometimes it makes me sad, or makes me feel like people don't really get it; they don't really get what I deal with on a daily basis and what I worry about every day.
Writing is an outlet, running is an outlet, and the gym is an outlet. That is why I can't let those things go. They keep me positive and happy. And I want to be a positive person to other people. I want to be able to help others, and I can't do that if I let my own life bring me down.
I'm excited, and nervous, about the coming weeks and trying to get 100% better. I'm excited to find the answer I think I already know, and to be given the proper solutions. I'm nervous for the procedures that need to be done, and all the needle pokes and prodding that is going to be happening. It's not going to be pleasant, but at least it will lead to a pleasant result, God willing. I'm nervous I'll need another surgery, or they'll find something I don't want to know about. But I know I need answers.
I have so many people around me, on a daily basis, and yet I feel, and fight a desire to be, alone. I'm sensitive to things people say, and sometimes words cut deep, even when people don't realize they are being hurtful. I want to talk, and I want someone to listen, while, simultaneously, I don't want to talk at all. And so I write, because I need to let my feelings out and I need to release stress in an expressive way, and not just actively at the gym. I have to express myself. This is something I struggle with when it comes to talking with people, but something I've learned to do through my writing. I think this is because I know every word isn't being judged, and I'm not going to be cut off when I write, and people can read it or not; it doesn't matter to me.
I love knowing that my writing has helped people; I love knowing people have read my stories and felt connections to my characters, and have wanted me to write more. Truth be told, though, I've never done it for anyone except myself. It's a need that has been born into me, just like I have an inability to saying no to helping someone, I'm also incapable of not writing. I guess when emotions are overflowing in me, they just demand to be released through pen and page.
And now that I have worked out the melancholy within me, I'm headed to the gym, to work out all the frustration buried deeper down.
Cheers, and, as always...
Jesus, I trust in You.
No comments:
Post a Comment