Pain Be Damned

Today was a roller coaster. I made it through the climb, through the loop, the twists and turns, and now that the ride is pulling back in, the station (aka my body), is worn. I may have pushed too hard, but damn it, life was calling, and I didn’t want to tell it to hold on. This post will be even longer than usual, sorry!

I don’t know if I’m still feeling the aftermath of Friday, or if I have an actual injury. As I’ve said before, I’m so out of touch with my body and with working out that I can’t tell what is a normal ache or pain and what is my body actually hurt. I woke up this morning still in a significant amount of pain. My spine, my hips, my shoulders. Today was the last day my epidural injection had to start working or the doctor said it wouldn’t work at all. Waking up with the realization that my best shot for relief from my pain was now gone, I cried. I can’t explain how disheartening it is to know I’m stuck with this pain for this entire journey. It’s the only thing I’ve wanted for so long, this injection and the chance to reduce the outrageous pain I deal with. And it failed. I’m still very emotional about it tonight.

But what surprised me is that it also made me feel defiant. It made me want to fight. Pain be damned, I want this, this new life. I pulled myself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom and to get dressed. Every step felt like my bones were bubble wrap, clicking and popping. By the time I made it to the door, I had to make a conscious effort to put one foot in front of the other because they didn’t want to do it on their own.

I nearly fell down my steps. Even my balance is being affected by whatever this pain is. “Doesn’t matter. We walk anyway.” My trek down my driveway and back, my every morning ritual now, was crooked and unstable, but I did it. I made it back and used the storm door I leave propped open to pull myself back up to my doorstep. I looked at the computer and that defiance took me to try to do more exercise. Silly little naive me decided to try to do Brad’s exercises today. Heavily modified since I can’t get in the floor yet, but forsaking all that is holy, I did every bit of it that I could. And GOTDANG, it was a workout.

The pain said stop, just give it up and rest. I refused. I rested yesterday and the pain sticking around only further made me want to defy myself. I woke my husband and daughter up and said “Let’s go. There’s something I want to do today.” I left them to get ready and went out to the car. In the passenger seat sat a purchase I made in week 1 of this round. It intimidated me so much that it had remained there ever since. A bag full of makeup. The first makeup I’ve purchased since 2012. Since then, any time I’ve entertained the idea of wearing makeup, the old southern colloquialism of “putting lipstick on a pig” was all I could think about, and I couldn’t wear it. But it was just another way to defy myself today. It took me 30 minutes for the most basic of makeup and it was far from perfect, but it felt surprisingly nice to wear it, to give myself that grace of calling attention to my face after I’ve spent a decade trying to deflect as much attention away from myself as possible with ponytails, bare face and boxy clothes.

The family made it to the car and my husband wore a careful grin, curious as to what I was about to put him through. Likely expecting another Dollar Tree trip which always leads us to 40 random items that rarely get used. Clutter doesn’t bother me too much, but he is kind of a neat freak. But he has been very supportive of my desire to get out and would suffer another pointless shopping haul if it meant me being happy and moving. He said my makeup looked great, but I could hear the chuckle in his voice. After pressing him relentlessly, he finally told me my eyebrows were too chunky. I frowned and shaped them down a bit but I’m glad he was honest. His opinion is the second most important one, after my own, and I was no expert at makeup, so I’ll take the advice of a straight man on what looks good on me.

We drove, quite a ways. He was probably beginning to wonder if this was a day trip. But 45 minutes later, we arrived at Michaels. “Oh, we’re spending money money.” Yes, darling, we are. Michaels is my long-lost playground. I used to be a crafting fiend. Crochet, furniture restoration, painting, repurposing.. things i gave up on long ago because of various pains and depression. I decided today was the perfect day to reclaim one of my old joys. $60 later, I have the yarn to start on a journey blanket for myself and lots of clearance kids’ crafts to do with my baby girl. I limped back to the parking lot, sweating like a pig in the 100 degree heat and panting. But I did it. Another accomplishment, another goal bested.

I wasn’t done. There was one more thing I wanted to do, a gift to my husband. Something we haven’t done since March 15, 2020. I took him out to eat. I didn’t take the food out, like usual. I took him out for food. We went inside a restaurant for the first time in over two years. He was blown away and it was a beautiful experience. Watching my daughter wave and speak to everyone and my husband try to teach her to use chopsticks. I couldn’t stop looking at them. Reclaiming my life has made their lives better too. I also got the opportunity to bless someone on our way home, so my choice to better myself may have been the only way that man would have gotten that joy today.

By the time we got home, I was hunchbacked. My back was so far gone from done that I finally accepted its plea for rest. I got into bed and slept. I hurt, so very much, but it isn’t going to defeat me. My spirit has become too strong to be defeated again.

Several pictures for you tonight. I’ve noticed that the more active I am in my own life, the more pictures I want to take, of my journey and of the moments happening around me. My morning workout, my makeup, and my daughter flexing her “big strong!” It was a beautiful day. Pain be damned.