I don't do lunches or parties anymore. Sometimes I'm okay with that, trusting the bigger picture. And sometimes I act like a child and throw a fit in my head that I can't go. =) If you throw a real fit, you'll just be in more pain, so that is out of the question. lol.
Buuuuut today I went to lunch with an elderly woman that I love dearly and haven't seen in 2 1/2 months. We went to the olive garden. I pulled my car up, walked up to the door and stared.... at the heaviest door I've ever seen. Sigh. I began to sweat. Spears stabbed through my chest as I struggled with the door, praying one the hostesses would come help me open it. When I finally got it open, (much to my ticked-offness at Olive Garden's design department) standing there were 4 hostesses/waiters giggling b/c it took me so long to open it. They were just laughing at my expression, but I wanted to throw their buttered up bread sticks at their perfectly pain free ribbed selves..
So I walked to the table of my loved one, all a mess in my head. and she looked at me and proclaimed "well you don't look sick, you're suppose to look sick. You look good!" I stared in awe, feeling defeated. I thought getting here was a victory! If only she knew what energy it took for me to get dressed after my physical therapy, put on makeup, and open that freaking frapping elephant of a door.
I love this woman, it's not her fault or anyone else's. But if sacred energy is spent on convincing people that I feel like glass resides in my ribs, there won't be much left to focus on healing. I really struggle with this. Illnesses you can't see are just so weird. And I know they are just as weird for our loved ones as they are for us.
So if you happen to pass me on the street and you think "she looks good, wonder what all the fuss is about?" (Thanks for the complement, by the way. =) But let's take that thought, hog tie it, and toss it in the compost pile. (Julie, remember your compost pile!!? When we were kids, I loved eating a banana and running outside and tossing it! I have no clue why that was so fun to me) .
Anyhoo, when I feel better, I promise, I will be shouting it from the rooftops. You won't be able to get away from my "I FEEL GREAT" rants. =) In fact, I'm so gunna throw a party. For real. No kidding =). Until then, I'm doing the best I can. And part of that is having no desire to try and make myself look worse. Costo makes me feel like crap enough. I won't let it deprive me of my adorble necklaces, headbands, and smiley faces on emails. So if I'm dressed up...maybe, just maybe, I'm pretending that Bart doesn't live in my ribs. And honestly, sometimes I'm glad you can't see my Costo. Because occasionally I pretend it's not there. Love me some make believe. -)
Sigh, and maybe, just maybe, I should give people some slack and stop ranting. It's possible they have more going on in their lives than meets the eye as well. Don't we all?
Yes, Disabled People Wear Lingerie.
2 weeks ago