Day 7
So. I’ve broken a bone in my back. Just a tiny little thing running parallel to my spine. So small that there’s no reason to try to fix it. It fix itself. It just needs time. But that tiny little thing took. me. DOWN. For the last week I’ve been hobbling, hunched over like a crone, making it to the restroom maybe 75% of the time and honestly not doing a great job while I’m in there. Every step is accompanied by a swallowed scream, every shift (are you aware of how often we shift) now has a short, staccato, sucking in of the breath. I’m gasping literally all of the time. It’s a problem.
Yesterday morning I fell out of bed. It wasn’t a quick roll over one-time to many and now you’re on the ground. I slid slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until with a (not so silent) scream I was on the ground. I couldn’t move. It took me over an hour to move, and then another near hour to get up. I have rug burns on curious places from trying to stand. Getting on your knees is HARD.
While I was down there, crying, pleading, in pain I remembered my mother. My gosh yall. Typically when I think of her a handful of memories come, her teaching me how to read, reading together on a couch, that time she threw a chicken leg at my head and scream she hated me, the times she said she wished she had aborted me.
My therapist wants me to work on trust. Please insert the dryest, mockingyest heh you have in you right here.
Anyway. When I was 10 years old I lost my keys. I went home and knocked on the door hoping someone was home. The only person there was my mom. She was bedridden, not quite completely paralyzed but definitely not able to walk any distance. But I was her daughter and I was beating on the door and crying and pleading let me in. She threw herself out of her hospital bed and army crawled to the front door (her bedroom was the furthest from the front door) and she let me in. Did I mention she was blind? I don’t know how long it took her. I don’t remember. I remember her pulling herself up (how the actual f did she do that? Like…fr. was my mom superwoman?) and unlocking the door and I sat on the floor with her just inside our doorway and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. And she held me. And she called me tootles. And we both realized that life would never be the same.
I remember the drugs. I remember the nastiness. But yesterday morning as I fought a pain that I could not overcome I remembered my mom. And she loved me.
Love, February
Ha. So. I don’t actually remember how to do Love February. I’m not sure I remember the formating. And it’s been so long since I’ve felt like a part of this community that I wasn’t sure it was right for me to participate. If it’s OK I may have one or two love February posts in me. If it’s not that’s OK too.
Some days….. some people…..
It might seem far fetched whenever we such things being portrayed in the dramas we watch, but the things the human body, mind, and soul can accomplish when we need it enough, when we WANT it enough…. It’s nothing short of a miracle. It’s not a joke when the grit and inner strength of a person— strength that we don’t think we ever had— comes to a head and the things that it propels us to accomplish is almost always beyond comprehension and understanding from a human— i.e. limited— understanding.
My prayers are with you, Isa, as you endeavour on this journey to recovery ♥️ Keep in mind that it is okay to take it easy, that it is okay to make yourself a priority, because it is when we, ourselves, are at 100% can we then be at 100% for those around us
Saying she should have undergone an abortion sounds like a hit phrase to say when a mother is angry. Maybe not all mothers do this, but my mom did it sometimes when I was young and talked back to her (and I think she now regrets it and many things she did when she was younger). It’s sad, but it’s real: what cruel things people say when they are angry.
Did I tell you when I was so sick the only person I thought of was my mom? How funny? The person I resented the most was the very person I thought of at crisis.
I feel this. My mom had drug problems when I was young and disabled when I was 9ish. I have like a year of having a mother. But when I’m sick and hurt my mom is who I want. Not necessarily *her* but the idea of a good mother. I think it’s normal. I’m sorry about your mother. Physical and emotional pain both suck.
isa: I'm not a serial killer I'm just really passionate about things
February 7, 2024 at 2:31 PM
Day 7
So. I’ve broken a bone in my back. Just a tiny little thing running parallel to my spine. So small that there’s no reason to try to fix it. It fix itself. It just needs time. But that tiny little thing took. me. DOWN. For the last week I’ve been hobbling, hunched over like a crone, making it to the restroom maybe 75% of the time and honestly not doing a great job while I’m in there. Every step is accompanied by a swallowed scream, every shift (are you aware of how often we shift) now has a short, staccato, sucking in of the breath. I’m gasping literally all of the time. It’s a problem.
Yesterday morning I fell out of bed. It wasn’t a quick roll over one-time to many and now you’re on the ground. I slid slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until with a (not so silent) scream I was on the ground. I couldn’t move. It took me over an hour to move, and then another near hour to get up. I have rug burns on curious places from trying to stand. Getting on your knees is HARD.
While I was down there, crying, pleading, in pain I remembered my mother. My gosh yall. Typically when I think of her a handful of memories come, her teaching me how to read, reading together on a couch, that time she threw a chicken leg at my head and scream she hated me, the times she said she wished she had aborted me.
My therapist wants me to work on trust. Please insert the dryest, mockingyest heh you have in you right here.
Anyway. When I was 10 years old I lost my keys. I went home and knocked on the door hoping someone was home. The only person there was my mom. She was bedridden, not quite completely paralyzed but definitely not able to walk any distance. But I was her daughter and I was beating on the door and crying and pleading let me in. She threw herself out of her hospital bed and army crawled to the front door (her bedroom was the furthest from the front door) and she let me in. Did I mention she was blind? I don’t know how long it took her. I don’t remember. I remember her pulling herself up (how the actual f did she do that? Like…fr. was my mom superwoman?) and unlocking the door and I sat on the floor with her just inside our doorway and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. And she held me. And she called me tootles. And we both realized that life would never be the same.
I remember the drugs. I remember the nastiness. But yesterday morning as I fought a pain that I could not overcome I remembered my mom. And she loved me.
Love, February
isa: I'm not a serial killer I'm just really passionate about things
February 7, 2024 at 2:33 PM
Ha. So. I don’t actually remember how to do Love February. I’m not sure I remember the formating. And it’s been so long since I’ve felt like a part of this community that I wasn’t sure it was right for me to participate. If it’s OK I may have one or two love February posts in me. If it’s not that’s OK too.
Reply1988 -❣️Mother Bean❣️
February 7, 2024 at 2:56 PM
My understanding is what you have written is perfect because these posts are about whatever feels right to share.
Bebe | Nessa❣️
February 7, 2024 at 6:50 PM
This 💯
mugyuljoie is preciousss
February 8, 2024 at 9:10 AM
I’m so glad you added something. I’m not here often and I look forward to your posts. Back pain is terrible and I’m so sorry.
Reply1988 -❣️Mother Bean❣️
February 7, 2024 at 2:57 PM
The pain felt so real I am so sorry you are dealing with this.
Healer’s
February 7, 2024 at 3:57 PM
I hope your pain will lessen soon.
kiara
February 7, 2024 at 6:03 PM
Feel better soon, isa /hugs.
Bebe | Nessa❣️
February 7, 2024 at 6:55 PM
Some days….. some people…..
It might seem far fetched whenever we such things being portrayed in the dramas we watch, but the things the human body, mind, and soul can accomplish when we need it enough, when we WANT it enough…. It’s nothing short of a miracle. It’s not a joke when the grit and inner strength of a person— strength that we don’t think we ever had— comes to a head and the things that it propels us to accomplish is almost always beyond comprehension and understanding from a human— i.e. limited— understanding.
My prayers are with you, Isa, as you endeavour on this journey to recovery ♥️ Keep in mind that it is okay to take it easy, that it is okay to make yourself a priority, because it is when we, ourselves, are at 100% can we then be at 100% for those around us
mmmmm
February 8, 2024 at 8:23 AM
Saying she should have undergone an abortion sounds like a hit phrase to say when a mother is angry. Maybe not all mothers do this, but my mom did it sometimes when I was young and talked back to her (and I think she now regrets it and many things she did when she was younger). It’s sad, but it’s real: what cruel things people say when they are angry.
Did I tell you when I was so sick the only person I thought of was my mom? How funny? The person I resented the most was the very person I thought of at crisis.
isa: I'm not a serial killer I'm just really passionate about things
February 8, 2024 at 11:52 AM
I feel this. My mom had drug problems when I was young and disabled when I was 9ish. I have like a year of having a mother. But when I’m sick and hurt my mom is who I want. Not necessarily *her* but the idea of a good mother. I think it’s normal. I’m sorry about your mother. Physical and emotional pain both suck.
🌸 Cera (@Seeker) 🌸
February 14, 2024 at 2:06 PM
I hope you feel better soon. Take care. You are stronger than you know. Stay blessed.