“I thought I was finished with this,” she mused, holding back threatening tears, tears that would show her weakness, her brokenness, her vulnerability.

This is not the portrait of a contented person.

Today was supposed to be about the next step.  I was going to receive the news that I could be healed, fixed, unbroken and that each day will get easier.

I was supposed to taking the first step towards sleeping without braces, practicing without modifications, and living without pain.

I loved the therapist, don’t get me wrong.  She was kind and patient and knowledgeable.  And she has been here.  She’s felt the pain and the anger and the betrayal  She knows what its like to drive your loved ones crazy because you feel so broken that you lash out at everyone around you, to stray from sex because you feel so ashamed of what your body has become that you can’t possible imagine how someone else could find it attractive, to want to know why and how the hell can I fix it.

She’s been here – and I don’t know if its a giant blessing or a huge curse.

Because she basically told me to adapt and move on.  That I’ll might never regain full function.  That I’ll be modifying for the rest of my life.  That this could get worse.  That the EMG might be necessary because permanent nerve damage is the other option.

And right now I don’t possibly know what to think.  And I don’t know who to turn to because I feel like I don’t really know anyone who would get this.  And because, quite frankly, all I want right now is to throw my hands up and let someone else drive.  But there’s no one around who can do that.  So its back to me being on my own…as always.  Or uprooting and starting again.  <–really what do I have to lose?

Its times like these when I wish I could have moved back home, that I would have been able to stay sane.  Or, even more, that beau and I would be together.  So I could come home tonight and crumple into a ball and just heave out my feelings in tears, gulps, shakes, and gasps.  But instead I’ll return to my apt, full of despair mixed with hopelessness, and sit alone.

I almost went home today but then I realized I could either numb out on my couch or numb out on my job.  At least at the latter I’ll be making somewhat of a difference, offering someone the comfort I’m in desperate need of…


10 thoughts on “Conflicted

    • Bilateral severe De Quervain’s tendonitis, loose ligaments, and a bunch of other stuff the hand therapist is going to explore over the next couple of weeks. Basically I take 2 steps forward, start to gain hope, and then either the pain comes back full force or I get news that takes me 10 steps back. I’m frustrated and angry and sick of being in pain and unable to do the simplest of tasks either at all or without excessive pain….trying to move through to the “acceptance” phase…we’ll see how that goes. ❤

      • I have loose ligaments too! I had to have shoulder surgery to tighten them because my shoulder kept constantly falling out the socket; my doc said I’ll eventually have to do the other shoulder and both my hips. Perhaps it’s genetic on our fathers’s side?

      • Interesting. I’ve always worried that not having the Scalisi family medical history would be dangerous…is there a lot of asthma, GI, joint, and skin (e.g. psoriasis) issues by any chance?

        I actually met with a functional medicine practitioner and as we went through my WHOLE medical history (I wrote about this early on) she saw a pattern of symptoms and illnesses related to hormone imbalance, specifically estrogen dominance (which is hereditary *insert comment about ONE of our father’s here*). I didn’t follow up but fully intend on it now because I need to believe that there’s something underlying all this AND because I’ve done some research into it and it seems legit. By 23 I’ve done two rounds of PT for my knees, have been dealing with wrist/hand stuff since 2009, have exercise-induced asthma, and hypothyroidism. My body keeps attacking itself despite the care I put into it (plant-based, whole foods diet, more than recommended exercise, etc). My other “numbers” are some of the best at my GP’s office which is why none of this makes sense and part of the reason its so frustrating…

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