I didn't blog yesterday because I don't believe that old saying about "misery loves company".
I don't think it always does, and I'm sure the "company" could do without the misery.
Anyway, the weather (I think) is doing me in. It's a headache reminiscent of my pre-surgical monsters.
Will this ever end?
That's what I ask myself. I don't know the answer.
I just plod through each day and do the best I can. I savor the days that are manageable, and on those blissful days of a 2-3 or even a 4, I try to forget entirely that it is ever different. I try to act normal, and I try to imagine that it is never going to change.
But then it does.
Last night, I was sitting in the hot tub, wishing to beam myself up to a warm, dry climate, with lots of sun. I fleetingly posed the hard question.
What if this is my forever reality?
Can I take it? Can I persevere? Can I maintain a good attitude, and hopefulness, in the face of pain for the rest of my life? Can I still be happy?
Can anyone be happy around me?
I don't stay there long. I can't. I just throw it out there to myself.
Keeping it real. That's me.
I can't help but think, too, that when my head feels like it is about to explode, dark thoughts hover over me. I am mostly resistant. But not always.
I am blessed that I can sleep through it. And sometimes, like last night, that's all I want to do. Escape. Even though it wakes me up, I go back to sleep. It's a welcome break.
Sometimes you just have to snuggle in your blankie, and let the world move on without you.
And while I'm there, I dream of weaving, this time in red. And I dream of looms. So many looms, so little time.
And I dream of a day, without a headache. Such a simple thing, isn't it?
Or maybe not.
"To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub."