"I will never let go of
the fight to get well.
I will never let go
of hope that there will
one day be a cure.
I will never let go
of my "survivor" personality.
I will never calmly sit by
and give in to my pain.
I will never let go.
Period."
These words come from Rose. Rose, who always touches me with her words. Rose, who always checks in with me to see how I am doing--even in the middle of a family crisis. If you do not already read Rose, you really must. She gets it. She gets all of it, and she is still fighting.
I truly wish I could say, "Yes me too!", Rose.
But, I can -- not. I am feeling beat down. I have never thought of myself as a "survivor". I have never thought of myself as being strong--except when it comes to fighting for my kids. Do not cross me there.
I am feeling defeated. I have pretty much lost hope. I am holding on to what little hope I have by a thin, thin, worn and weary slip of thread.
I do not like feeling this way, but ... it is what it is.
It has been this way for a while. I don't think it’s my depression. It doesn't feel the same way. It feels like I have just come to face reality. This is my life. I am in constant pain. Pain that adds new body parts daily. A mere tap on the shoulder and I grab for my arm, wincing and trying to rub away the pain. And, the look from the person who just touched me. Puzzlement. Shock and surprise. And, then ... "You have GOT to be kidding!"
I am so tired, just so very, very, tired.
me,
CJ
