Here’s the thing. The truth. I hurt after I wrote about Betty. I didn’t expect to hurt so much. I retreated to the far corners of myself and tried hard not to think about that post, about her, about any of it.
I’m finding writing this story of mine difficult which is a polite way of saying that returning to writing about this story has become effing hard. I want to pursue it. I want to write it out and complete it. I want to get to the funny parts. There are funny parts. I want to get to the paragraphs where I’m learning, where inch by inch I’m healing. Where I reach an oasis in the storm, the thunder is rolling and lightning cracks the sky but I know I’m going to be okay. I’m still at the beginning. I’m still at the burn unit. I’m still in surgery. I want to be at the after, but there’s a journey to cover. The after won’t make sense if I don’t write about the before. What I can look forward to is that I know how this story will end.
I am tired. That post was true. I’ve been hitting wall after wall of fatigue and I’m beginning to suspect the cause of it isn’t physical. Which sucks. That means it’s mental. It means I need to dig deeper and get to the bottom of what’s bugging me versus taking a handful of vitamins, getting an anemia diagnosis (that was the easiest and best solution to my problem I could come up with. Better than cancer or some disease that doesn’t have a name yet) and eating everything soy based. I can’t take up residence at a yoga facility and chant my way towards freedom. Or can I?
I’m sighing right now. Loudly.
Somewhere between a week ago and today I’ve realized whatever is going on with me is not going to be as simple (or as hard) as cutting out my deep love of sugar. I don’t know what it is but I’m wondering if writing this story might have a small hand in my unrest.
I know I don’t have to come here and put forth post after post on the car crash, but I also know I’m not done with this yet. I can’t get away from this nagging need to keep going. There is something to writing this that is good for me on some level I can’t see or understand. And I’m learning there are times where it’s going to hurt a little on the way down.