About Me

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Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!

Thursday, September 26, 2013

I can do hard things.

Yesterday began well. I awoke pain-free, organized, and determined. As I drove into work, I began to feel twinges in my neck and shoulder. They increased throughout the morning. Nevertheless, I got an enormous amount of work done in the time available.

When I left for the dentist's office, I could barely turn my head in either direction. It wasn't as bad as the time I had to borrow Firstborn's cervical collar (from an auto accident in which she'd been a passenger) and wear it for a week due to anger I had swallowed. But it still wasn't fun.

As I lay there having my teeth cleaned, I had to keep consciously relaxing my shoulders. My feet were clubbing, as they sometimes do when I am stressed. Again, not fun, even though she was not hurting me.

I ignored the temptation to stop by my favorite antique shop and see if there were any bookcases or maybe a hutch that wanted to come home with me. Drove straight here, had a very light snack, and napped until it was time to leave for my massage. I did use the thumper on my shoulder before I crashed, and it seemed to help a little.

Last night's session was far more about releasing old griefs than simple biomechanics. I relived my rape yesterday. It's been over 40 years, and every so often it jumps up and bites me before going back to sleep. I got some perspective last night, and a generous helping of peace and comfort. I slept fairly well.

This morning I feel as if I had been physically beaten. Neck is stiff again, almost as if we hadn't worked on it. My massage therapist says that people frequently have neck and throat trouble because they can't speak of things. I know that was certainly the case when I was wearing Firstborn's cervical collar.

What I would like to do is take a mental health day and spend it writing. And then, if necessary, take a Naproxen and make my body shut up for awhile, even though I know it's only trying to help.

What I am going to do is fix a good sensible breakfast and lunch, stand in the shower and let the water pound my "owies", cry if I can, then go to work and plow through my day. Maybe get my nails done after work. Or maybe put that off until Saturday morning and head straight for the temple.

Maybe the solution for hurting like hell is to go hide out in a little corner of heaven for a few hours.

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