Well, I never thought I'd blog about a back ache, but some pains are just too big to not share. I bent over on Monday to pick up a piece of trash and have been in pain ever since. In retrospect, I should have just left the piece of trash on the ground. It was a little sugar subsitute packet that holds a teaspoon of sweetner. It was raining. It was stuck to the driveway. If I had driven away, it probably would have stuck to my tire.
So, onto the pain. It's big and all consuming. It's across my lower back and goes down into my legs. If I sit down too fast I scream. I can no longer bend over. I went to the doctor's yesterday and received 12 injections into the ligaments to reduce swelling. I was given some painkillers that really do work. I actually thought I was healed yesterday evening about an hour after taking them. I was taken back to reality the following morning when I tried to get out of bed.
I don't know if my back is going bad, if I'm getting old, or if I'm extremely out of shape. But I do know that a piece of trash, one square inch in size, can sit on my driveway for all of time, from this day forward.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Sometimes life really hurts
I haven't written in a while, and not sure I should write now. But what is a blog for if I can't update on what's going on in my life. First, I seem to be heading into another depression. I'll have to manage this one and try some things before I get the doctor involved. It's always kind of tricky as sometimes they make it worse. I know I should be exercising which does help. I've been sick for over three weeks with a flu/upper respiratory infection which really kicked my butt. I think I'm ready just in time for allergy season.
My 18 year old daughter who is not finished high school has left home to live with her boyfriend. She got a tongue piercing, which I hate and we let her know, no piercings of the tongue were allowed in the house. So, under cover of darkness, she went out the back door with her possessions. No goodbye, no note, nothing. Just left, like I was a landlord she owed rent to and she was skipping out. Even posted on Facebook 'Hello Freedom" before we even knew she was gone. Later she posted Partttty to let everyone know what a grand old time she was having.
I realize she's 18 and they are notoriously self centered and self involved. But does she lie in bed at night and wonder what our reactions were to finding out she was gone? Perhaps I should have taken a picture of her father's broken heartened expression that morning and posted it under her freedom status. She likened living here to being in jail. Unbelieveable. Very clueless to what jail is like, hopefully she'll never have opportunity to make that comparison.
So where is the book or wisdom that helps me get what feels like a piece of carpet out of my throat. I can't breathe. I feel rage, despair, intense physical pain, and depression all at the same time. Why do children not care that they hurt you? Why do they think you deserve what they dish out? How could everything that is done for someone's good, done so that they become successful members of society, be turned around and suddenly I'm the bad guy because she doesn't get something she wants. She already has a facial piercing and a tattoo, so we're not totally inflexible here.
As she curls up in bed with her boyfriend tonight, minus the high school diploma she'll never earn, does she reflect on her life, and that, just maybe ,we had a plan for her? That based on our wisdom and years, it was a doable one. Granted it didn't include living with her boyfriend, but there were alot of good points to it.
You see, like most parents, we wanted to see her succeed. To make something out of her life. To get an education, a job she enjoyed and felt pride in doing, find a good man, who would make a wonderful father, marry him, and have children. There's nothing grand about it, but it's a good life. You work hard, pay your bills, raise good kids, hold your head up high.
I cannot raise my head up high. She doesn't care about that. She wouldn't waste one minute's worry on that. Not until it happens to her. Because.....and this is what I don't get.....my daughter doesn't care what I feel. It either makes her laugh, or makes her mad, but not one of my feelings are legitimate. Pregnancy, birth, feedings, diapers, fevers, many health problems, soccer, schooling, driving, clothes shopping, vacations, all those things I did for her don't matter. She never asked for my help so it doesn't count. What counts after all these years????
I DON'T ALLOW TONGUE PIERCINGS IN MY HOUSE. That's the only thing that mattered. That's the straw the broke the camel's back. For now, for the first minute when I wake up I feel normal, then that horrible feeling comes over me when I realize she's gone. It's like an echo in my heart. Then I start my day, which has less meaning than it used to right now.
But I'll go to my grave with the image of my husband's face waking me up at 6:00am on a Wednesday morning and telling "She's gone." Go ahead and chuckle kid, maybe have a hearty laugh over it. It brought tears to my eyes then, and it brings tears to my eyes now.
May you one day get the opportunity to really and truly know your parents.
My 18 year old daughter who is not finished high school has left home to live with her boyfriend. She got a tongue piercing, which I hate and we let her know, no piercings of the tongue were allowed in the house. So, under cover of darkness, she went out the back door with her possessions. No goodbye, no note, nothing. Just left, like I was a landlord she owed rent to and she was skipping out. Even posted on Facebook 'Hello Freedom" before we even knew she was gone. Later she posted Partttty to let everyone know what a grand old time she was having.
I realize she's 18 and they are notoriously self centered and self involved. But does she lie in bed at night and wonder what our reactions were to finding out she was gone? Perhaps I should have taken a picture of her father's broken heartened expression that morning and posted it under her freedom status. She likened living here to being in jail. Unbelieveable. Very clueless to what jail is like, hopefully she'll never have opportunity to make that comparison.
So where is the book or wisdom that helps me get what feels like a piece of carpet out of my throat. I can't breathe. I feel rage, despair, intense physical pain, and depression all at the same time. Why do children not care that they hurt you? Why do they think you deserve what they dish out? How could everything that is done for someone's good, done so that they become successful members of society, be turned around and suddenly I'm the bad guy because she doesn't get something she wants. She already has a facial piercing and a tattoo, so we're not totally inflexible here.
As she curls up in bed with her boyfriend tonight, minus the high school diploma she'll never earn, does she reflect on her life, and that, just maybe ,we had a plan for her? That based on our wisdom and years, it was a doable one. Granted it didn't include living with her boyfriend, but there were alot of good points to it.
You see, like most parents, we wanted to see her succeed. To make something out of her life. To get an education, a job she enjoyed and felt pride in doing, find a good man, who would make a wonderful father, marry him, and have children. There's nothing grand about it, but it's a good life. You work hard, pay your bills, raise good kids, hold your head up high.
I cannot raise my head up high. She doesn't care about that. She wouldn't waste one minute's worry on that. Not until it happens to her. Because.....and this is what I don't get.....my daughter doesn't care what I feel. It either makes her laugh, or makes her mad, but not one of my feelings are legitimate. Pregnancy, birth, feedings, diapers, fevers, many health problems, soccer, schooling, driving, clothes shopping, vacations, all those things I did for her don't matter. She never asked for my help so it doesn't count. What counts after all these years????
I DON'T ALLOW TONGUE PIERCINGS IN MY HOUSE. That's the only thing that mattered. That's the straw the broke the camel's back. For now, for the first minute when I wake up I feel normal, then that horrible feeling comes over me when I realize she's gone. It's like an echo in my heart. Then I start my day, which has less meaning than it used to right now.
But I'll go to my grave with the image of my husband's face waking me up at 6:00am on a Wednesday morning and telling "She's gone." Go ahead and chuckle kid, maybe have a hearty laugh over it. It brought tears to my eyes then, and it brings tears to my eyes now.
May you one day get the opportunity to really and truly know your parents.
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