I’d love to have half the enthusiasm for anything in my life that a female my age reserves for wine

Can you imagine waking up every morning, knowing that you have broken parts, but your warranty has expired, so you just have to learn to function around them (or buy suspiciously cheap Chinese knockoffs on eBay. I’m kidding; that’s not an option.)? It’s more difficult than the inspirational stories you see on Extreme Home Makeover make it seem. Because, be honest, TV is your main exposure to people dealing with traumatic experiences. They don’t show you the day-to-day struggle on TV, only the triumphs. That’s why I wish my life were a movie trailer, because despite being short, at least it would be only the best bits.

I used to love rainy days.  I would get excited when I saw the dark clouds rolling in. There’s nothing more beautiful than a drive after a summer storm with the windows down. The gray sky hangs lower than a clear blue one. Raindrops lazily fall from tree branches. The roads become dark and shiny from the rain, street lamps reflecting off the pavement. I even love the sound of my tires as they kick up water. I’ve never told anyone, but I used to go out in the yard in the summer, barefoot and just let the rain fall on me. Or, go for a walk, as long as it wasn’t pouring. Nothing clears your mind faster than a walk in the rain. And, for me, nothing put a smile on my face faster.

Now, dark skies bring dread with them. I know that the rain is going to exacerbate my back and neck pain in the way you’ve heard you grandmother complain about. I don’t normally like to complain (but, I’m about to), but it really sucks to be a 28-year-old surrounded by so much life in the people around me, only to be exhausted by them. I’d love to have half the enthusiasm for anything in my life that a female my age reserves for wine, especially if it’s wine with her friends. Don’t get me wrong. I love wine, and I especially love wine with my friends, but things have lost their luster through my eyes. At least I can acknowledge and appreciate the life and beauty in the people around me. I see that some people can’t.

So, if you see me, and I’m not myself…

♦ Maybe my smile looks fake or my laugh sounds insincere.
♦ Maybe I’m impatient or short with you.
♦ Maybe I leave much too early.
♦ Maybe I don’t say much and look uncomfortable.

… know that I don’t mean anything by it. I want to be there with you, or I wouldn’t be. And, know that I appreciate you, and it breaks my heart that I can’t be myself for you. I’m in here somewhere, the person I really am; not the one in constant pain and drowning in fear. I’m finding my way out, little by little. But, as sure as I am that I will have good days and bad days, I am sure that there will be setbacks. The difference is, now, I am determined.

This song calms me every time I hear it. And, that’s something… Also, the video is beautiful: “Old Pine” by Ben Howard

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9 thoughts on “I’d love to have half the enthusiasm for anything in my life that a female my age reserves for wine

  1. I’m so sorry you have to deal with chronic pain. No one can understand what you go through unless they share the experience, of course, but I feel you’ve offered some small insight here, so thank you and thank you also for sharing Ben Howard’s music. I’d never heard of him before and have quite had my breath taken away as I watched a few of his videos.

  2. You, your words, touch me. I want to hug and comfort you (gently, no pain). It must be the Mom or perhaps the human being in me. I hope you do find your way out and through, and keep writing – there’s a book in here.

  3. I’m sorry you have to struggle with pain. Thankfully, I’ve not experienced that firsthand, but my best friend was diagnosed with MS when we were in our early twenties. I’ve seen her frustration with her limitations. I hope you are able to find your way through this 🙂

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