I can't stand it when I complain. It always fills me with regret after the fact, and then I wonder how I sound to every one else, and I don't want to seem self-centered...
And I've done a lot of complaining this year. A three month migraine {which thanks to acupuncture and some coping mechanisms is now held at bay most of the time, yay!} will do that to you.
So this morning, as I clutched my side I looked at my husband and said "something is always wrong with me!" It feels that way at times. Like my body is not my friend. Probably paybacks for all the times I didn't exercise, that I filled it with wine instead of vegetables...
Thankfully it's nothing major, just discomfort from an ovarian cyst. I know plenty who are worse off right now {which is why I hesitate to complain} But it sucks. Really. I'm sitting here with a heating pack, a box of dark chocolate stars from Trader Joe's, in bed, with my laptop. I cannot concentrate. I want to read others words and comment and be thoughtful, but I can't. It's like I've never known pain. Which is a total lie. I've gone through childbirth - twice - with no epidural. I've gone through three months of a migraine that didn't let up. I should be used to this.
But we never are. We are not made to handle pain. I curl up like a ball, hoping my kids don't take the opportunity to try to jump all over their mommy. I bury my head and hope it goes away magically. I pray for God to give me a whole month where I feel okay. I beg for cuddles {literal and figurative} because that's what heals me. And I might complain. And ask for my Mommy. Just a little... .
Tomorrow I'll look on the bright side. Tonight, in the darkness where pain and suffering is always worse {even if it's just in our own minds} I'm going to throw myself a little pity party.
Here's to chocolate covered shortbread cookies, rice packs and soft flannel sheets. To friends and family who step up to the plate. And to good morning hugs and kisses that make the day seem possible. In so many ways.