My New Constant Companion

Based on the title you probably thought this would be about my new dog. While I have a new dog, my new constant companion is not the dog.

It's pain.

Back pain usually from early in the morning, while still in bed, until about 30 min. after I get up and move around. The stiffness hits me in my sleep, and wakes me up between 5 and 7 hours after I fall asleep.

Hip pain from misalignment, from walking too much, from sitting too long, from standing too long, from crossing my legs at the ankles too much.

Muscular pain but only after fatigue, and accompanied by twitching.

Emotional pain, imagining that this will never get better and I have to live with this for the next 48 years (because I have always planned to be 100 at the very least before I die). Also because no doctor offers me relief anymore, because no one in my life really gets it or helps. Because all I want is to move, work, dance, and feel NORMAL. Or at least pain-free.

Also painful is admitting any of this, talking about it. It does NOT make it better. Helpful comments do NOT help, despite the intention of the commenter. Reading websites for support is NOT supportive. I haven't yet found a doctor who understands it in a professional way. (There was the one doctor a while back, but he's in another city now, probably retired. And he wasn't exactly encouraging.)

A final element of pain is the public opinion that I didn't have a "full case" of polio and therefore, I won't suffer as much. And hey, look at FDR! He was president four times, and moved mountains. Look at that poet guy! What determination! Such great examples! NOT helping, folks.

At this point, I'm looking for a guru or wizard to make sense of it all, someone who won't blame me. The tiny bit of hope I find is in two things: my dogs are oblivious but loving, and researchers have found fragments of the polio virus in the spinal fluid of post-polio syndrome patients. This might provide answers to the cause, but in the end, it's not cancer. It's very low-end research, not sexy at all, and therefore, no one really cares or will fund anything remotely near a "breakthrough."

Negativity, fatigue, depression and degeneration are also part of the syndrome. Yay! Non-prescription solutions for depression involve.... EXERCISE. Which I am told is not indicated. Screw that. Yesterday, I could hardly get off the couch, but when I was out watching my dogs run around like idiots, I was not in pain.

Not a lot of writing gets done when pain is present. If I could figure out a way to run my dogs and write at the same time, then I'd be golden. And I may have done just exactly that. Stay tuned.

And yes I do have a new dog. He's quite silly and waggy. He is over the top optimistic and unapologetic about it. I like that. I am unapologetic about starting sentences with And. We have that lack of apology in common.

Distractions

I embarked on this Holidailies project as a way to get into a discipline of writing, because I was NOT in one. Not a regular writing appointment, daily, with a journal. I thought it would be good to have/establish one.

But I find that there is a larger problem afoot. Not only do I have too many distractions and things that take me out of writing (such as crafts, constant housework, new games on the goggle box, movies, etc.), but I'm also finding that my depression is waxing and waning, mostly waxing.

The most alarming "symptom" at this point is that the usual voices in my head (hush - not the crazy ones, but the fiction ones - the characters in my stories) HAVE STOPPED TALKING. It's lonely and cold without them. It's been a few weeks since I stopped to write something down, or even thought "I need to write that down."

Have I lost the Muse? Have I lost my will to write? This is far more alarming that missing a week or more in a project that I voluntarily took on.

The remedy that I know of for this problem is to quiet my mind. Christmas Day was lovely (the Eve as well) because a sudden snowstorm shut everything down early. I went out for walks in it. A pretty but blowy and dangerous storm, actually. For this area. But it hushed everything. It stilled my mind just long enough for me to realize that the internal dialogue had stopped.

To quiet my mind, I have decided to rid myself of projects and only tackle those that a) earn my living and b) make life conducive to the creative side. There are stories to tell. I feel that I will not survive if I don't tell them. Time for writing, yoga, fewer screens, more ink, more walks with my dog. Distractions are necessary or life will not be balanced, but from now on, I'm choosing to pursue as many distractions as I can that nurture the creative me.

Just Here

I'm just here. Not writing. Exercising is hard, and makes my body hurt. Since I came up with the brilliant theory that I will hurt with or without exercise, I'm going with the "with"...

Lots of hot flashes at night, interrupting sleep.

Am reading Nicholas Sparks for tips on the craft of just getting on with the story, without all the business.

I expect that my period will start soon, and this is the pre-game show. When I am exercising, I feel strong and jockish... but things quickly deteriorate when I contemplate where my life has ended up.

I'm so far from home. So far from where I thought I'd be, or even imagined where I might be. So very far.