Okay, I give in, I’m suffering. The sensation I am feeling is not normal, cannot be overlooked or observed. I feel pain and I do not want to accept the fact that I must live like this.
Right now I can barely move without the shooting pain emerging. On the ride home from the gym today every bump we hit in the road created a grimace upon my face as my body attempted to communicate with my brain with cruel contempt. Along with the pain I was feeling extreme anger no longer aware that whether or not I suffer in life is a personal choice. I fell victim to life’s tragic games and I could sense no meaning or purpose.
I worked out hard at the gym today and pushed my manual chair to the best of my abilities. My anger at the time was feeding my spirit driving me to pick myself back up again and create the life I know I can live. Lately I have not been creating my life and it seems all the guidelines for living I write about have been ignored. Every day there are choices I can make which could send me down glorious paths leading to sunlit fields, rolling hills, and crystal clear skies. The choices have been overlooked however leaving me feeling stuck in the mud unable to move in any direction. Boring, uneventful consistencies drown my thoughts hindering my soul’s ability to expand and conquer.
When I arrived at the gym today my pain was a nuisance but manageable. As the time passed the pain slowly grew in intensity as did my anger, but I pressed on. How are you doing today Colin? Fine, I replied while really I wanted to lash out and allow my boiling blood to erupt through my pores.
“Is this really worth it?” I thought. “Would I be better off just giving up on this dream of recovery, moving out of my house and getting on with my life. Remove myself from a relationship with my parents that seems to be crashing and stumbling back to the days of rebellious youth.”
When I was first injured, one way I rationalized the situation was to say it was a chance to become closer to my family. I don’t believe this has been the case however and instead of feeling like a 22-year-old adult living at home, I feel like a 15-year-old teenager who lets spite run his life and desperately wants an independence he cannot have. Once a young man inches away from the independence which I worked so hard for, suddenly stripped of it all only to be placed back into the caring hands of the loved ones I broke away from. Yes, I’m extremely lucky to have them in my life, they are wonderful people and I’m glad they are in my life but hopefully one can sympathize with the frustration.
After arriving home from the painfully bumpy car ride I suffered through what is becoming an all too familiar excruciating transfer back into my power chair. I sat there motionless as I felt a numbing pain radiating from my backside. Any movement I made created tremors of pain that vibrated to the bones of my upper right butt cheek, then sent a cold shiver down my right leg. Every time I inhaled another jolt occurred, my right leg shivered and twitched. The tightness I felt in the area seemed to beckon me to move but I knew any attempt would be a costly mistake. I gave in several times and leaned my chair back to a reclined position. Sharp pains ensued followed by throbbing sensations, once again the shiver, and for a moment the room grew fuzzy and dim.
I just sat there in fury and sadness. Tears began to emerge beneath my eyelids and the question of “What am I possibly going to do about this?” repeatedly emerged. “Working out is not worth this pain?” I thought.
I successfully numbed my brain with Jerry Seinfeld and gang for about an hour. The anger subsided and the pain stop screaming at me. I was left with a brain spinning a web of thoughts and emotions. Unable to grasp anyone of them, I sat down here in front of my computer and let fly this here gathering of words. It has been a release but really the words did not flow quite like I expected. I thought I would talk more about suffering and how I could overcome it. I thought maybe I would reach an overall point, an understanding, a lesson learned. It usually happens but not tonight. Maybe tomorrow, maybe never. As long as the maybe never disappears, as long as there’s hope, as long as the possibilities never die, I shall continue on.