My birthday is tomorrow and I’m just not that excited. This past year has been really rough emotionally and physically. I don’t think I’ve had a year quite that bad, maybe ever. I definitely know what living the spoonie lifestyle is about now.
Two months after my birthday last year I fell into a terrible slump. I became a person I didn’t like. I did some work and became someone I like again. I don’t know that I’ve really left the slump all that much.
I miss my dog. Once you have a tiny (or not so tiny) ball of unconditional love it’s hard to live without it. I met a wonderful dog yesterday and seeing her with her hooman really drove home just how hard it is to be without a dog. I have a hard time even looking at other pictures of dogs.
I think last year I expected that my pain would get better. All year. I thought having the tendon transfer would make things better than they were. And while I can walk now without a brace, I still have pain. Some of it is different than before, but it’s not less intense pain or less frequent. It’s just different.
I had to cheer myself on to get out of bed this morning. “Come on Lyndsy! You can do it!”
There’s other ridiculous drama that I just don’t have the spoons for. I tried to step up and do something good and nice and I am perpetually getting shit on. Well, fuck that. Not. Worth. It.
And poor Mr. Lyndsy. He doesn’t understand what this feels like. He always wants to keep trying things. He doesn’t know that sometimes, things just can’t be done. So he gets frustrated – he can’t really help me feel better and he doesn’t really understand where I’m coming from.
I don’t think he gets that it’s not that I’m giving up. But that I’m trying to find my new “normal.”
But that’s what 34 seems like it’s going to be about – finding my new “normal.” Knowing that the “normal” is going to be some kind of shitty shade of what I’ve had in the past isn’t really exciting. It isn’t really something I want to celebrate.
I do have some birthday wishes you all can help me fulfill. More tomorrow.