Chronic Pain

As I spend a few quiet moments, rubbing my daughter to sleep, the debilitating heaviness creeps in. I’ve been able to ignore the whispering secrets jabbing into my shoulder and the never ceasing game of tug of war taking place in my neck. Like clockwork, when my movements lull, the metronome orchestrated by both the limbs that I am relying on and those that I am not, gradually ascend into the deafening crescendo of annoyingly in your face pain and stop you mid stumble stiffness. With every deep breath in, a sharp nuisance laughs at me. Rib is out again… The ache in my toe from that fall several months back is a reminder of how residual pain is lasting, and invisible to everyone else. The longer I sit, the more aware I become of how sore and tired I am. I’m being strung in all these different directions, but I’m only able to focus on a few things at a time. The twitching of the other strings cause me to fill with such intense guilt, because I simply don’t have the energy to continue tending to each pull. It’s in these moments, that I empathize with those who are finding solace in self medication. You seek a release from the pain that follows you to sleep and wakes with you each morning. When the exhaustion kisses your eyelids awake, and your nerves steal the sensations from your fingertips. When simply sitting means you have to calculate how you’ll stand and how you’ll rid your knees, hips, and back from the imminent stiffness that will leave you immobile if left for too long. All of my spoons are spent. My dishes are done, my children well fed and half clean. Morning will come with her new demands, all too soon. There will be caffeine fueled energy with a splash of anxiety. Don’t forget your free refills on large sides of guilt. Or the ibuprofen. Please don’t forget the ibuprofen.