Waiting, Surviving, and More Than Surviving

It’s been a few weeks, sporadic blog readers. One of those months, you know? Where things are going from bad to worse, and a cycle begins reminding you of all the other bad things that have already happened in your life thus far. The cycle then goes on to speculate on all the terrible things that are inevitably going to happen as your life progresses and you get caught in this storm of desperation and disinterest in anything else in the world.

The latest in is that I have an undiagnosed something. Readers and real life friends alike are fully aware that I give out about my hip pain a lot, and as time has gone on, it has become more of an issue. Now I’m waiting on a rheumatology consult, need to take day time naps to deal with the fatigue, and am relating far too well to The Spoon Theory. It’s frustrating and exhausting and it takes a whole ton of effort to do not very much.

The build up has started: I am tired and in pain, so I can’t get a job, so I have no money. I am tired and in pain, so I can’t work as a nurse so I have to consider transferring into something else, which isn’t dropping out, but feels remarkably similar. I am tired and in pain so I can’t sleep at night and am exhausted during the way which makes it harder to socialise, serve, and survive.

All this happens and it would be so easy to give up. I could just take to my bed and watch Netflix and drink tea and never stir. Which I do some days, and it is absolutely necessary. But not every day. And I have to remind myself, as we all do sometimes, that I have survived the terrible things before. I survived bulimia, and dropping out of med school, and coming out as queer, and being raped, and having PTSD, GAD, and panic attacks, and having IBS (I am alphabet soup apparently), and a whole host of other things that felt like the end of the world (like being broke and relationships ending and growing apart from friends.) I am still here after all of that and so I must keep going. Or all that effort will have been a waste.

I can survive, and more than survive. I can adjust. I have a computer. I write (and get paid now. That’s cool). I have Skype. I have a rent free room to live in and meals made for me, courtesy of my beautiful father and mother. I have best friends who are not in the least bit frightened of all my baggage, and often come to the rescue. I have Jesus, and God’s infinite love. I have hope.

And that’s good enough for now.

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