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Return of the Pain Monster
Are you kidding?! After finally reaching a point in which I can almost always associate the pain in my right side to specific stressful events occurring near the moment it flairs up, for no apparent reason at around midnight, I began experiencing extreme pain flairs. I have neither done anything strenuous over the past several days in anticipation of today's proposed events. Yes we hosted a race last night, but with less than 10 people and my husband really taking care of all the hosting including the cleaning, (it's easier to let go of my issues when it's his party,) it was really a very small challenge for me.
Of course there's the intense concern I have over a couple specific individuals on this day in particular. Most people think I am some kind of holiday queen; always eager to celebrate. I usually look forward to being able to express my enthusiasm narrowly within the parameters of acceptability, and holidays usually make a perfect shared moment between my exuberance and conformity, even if barely. Holidays have built-in celebrations, but sometimes those occasions that are intended to be happy fill us with memories that spark embers of loss. Not every holiday is enjoyable, even if it only may be certain years, or even just certain moments within a celebration.
I also consider people other than myself no matter what I may be personally celebrating, which is how I survive my own disappointments. I truly understand the depths of the sorrow that can accompany even the happiest occasion. It's not always about what you have lost, but maybe about what you have never had; or worse, what you have glimpsed as a possibility seemingly beyond your reach. Holidays are often illusions we create to maintain us through mundania. The illusions imprint on us, and we often turn each day into an unrealistic struggle to achieve such an illusion each day. The imprint of my disappointments have been such that as I explore the possibilities of each approaching holiday, I also turn back with the knowledge that there are now some people who are experiencing what I did then, and I feel the need to make it better.
Making it better isn't about encouraging them in their illusions, nor is it about tearing them down. We should all chose to create our own environment with purpose as well as hopefulness. We have to do so with care, however, seeing reality for what it is, but also what it can be. It is the perspective we chose to take that skewers the direction of our vision. Here is where we help make it better.
There are many unpleasant things in life. If we live with the idea that we should always have what we want, then there will be even more unpleasantness. We could choose to live with an acceptance of compromise and education, appreciating each new understanding and question. If we resist the occurrences around us, we will perpetuate a life of sorrow and distress. If we adapt to the swirl around us, we can grow without restraint expanding tolerance and compassion to others. The negativity we feel is in our reactions to the world around us. Through extending positivity, even through force, we will attract more in others around us. This is why I chose to be exuberant about most holidays.
But there are some that cannot be denied their negative impact, like this one. Firsts without are often difficult, but when they come at a time of other significant problems, the additional variables can not only tip the balance, but topple the scales entirely. I know of no family untouched by both extreme financial limitations and psychological illness. These factors can be distracting to the point of pain in themselves, but combined with other unhappiness they can be completely overwhelming.
Although my hermit-like isolation has seemed to lead me better over-all emotional well-being, of late I have been unable to maintain this physical and psychological isolation. For nearly nine months, I have processed sever social anxiety, nearly eliminating extreme pain in favor of tolerable irritation with moments of justifiable intensity. From an inability to telephone or even e-mail, I have reached the point of driving under emotional duress while maintaining a pleasant and un-shaking demeanor. Perhaps this is where the problem lies.
Because it is in lies that I believe this pain started; the lies of composure while inside my head was ringing with screams and my guts were twisted with impotence. By cutting off the world, I did not need to know how ineffectual I could be at helping the people I love. This month has glaringly mirrored my inabilities over my abilities. I have called upon myself to return to an appearance of "normalcy" when I am knowingly unsuited. I will be called upon to face the culmination of my fears with a deep sense of blame, even knowing that blame falls on my compassion for others. My physical boundaries will continue to be tried as deeply as my emotional expanses.
I had hoped that by writing I could once more purge my emotional restraints that I believe cause this intense pain, but I find myself accepting it instead with the relief that I expect to actually receive medical assistance soon for a change. When I look at the sum total, I better understand the purpose of pain.
Of course there's the intense concern I have over a couple specific individuals on this day in particular. Most people think I am some kind of holiday queen; always eager to celebrate. I usually look forward to being able to express my enthusiasm narrowly within the parameters of acceptability, and holidays usually make a perfect shared moment between my exuberance and conformity, even if barely. Holidays have built-in celebrations, but sometimes those occasions that are intended to be happy fill us with memories that spark embers of loss. Not every holiday is enjoyable, even if it only may be certain years, or even just certain moments within a celebration.
I also consider people other than myself no matter what I may be personally celebrating, which is how I survive my own disappointments. I truly understand the depths of the sorrow that can accompany even the happiest occasion. It's not always about what you have lost, but maybe about what you have never had; or worse, what you have glimpsed as a possibility seemingly beyond your reach. Holidays are often illusions we create to maintain us through mundania. The illusions imprint on us, and we often turn each day into an unrealistic struggle to achieve such an illusion each day. The imprint of my disappointments have been such that as I explore the possibilities of each approaching holiday, I also turn back with the knowledge that there are now some people who are experiencing what I did then, and I feel the need to make it better.
Making it better isn't about encouraging them in their illusions, nor is it about tearing them down. We should all chose to create our own environment with purpose as well as hopefulness. We have to do so with care, however, seeing reality for what it is, but also what it can be. It is the perspective we chose to take that skewers the direction of our vision. Here is where we help make it better.
There are many unpleasant things in life. If we live with the idea that we should always have what we want, then there will be even more unpleasantness. We could choose to live with an acceptance of compromise and education, appreciating each new understanding and question. If we resist the occurrences around us, we will perpetuate a life of sorrow and distress. If we adapt to the swirl around us, we can grow without restraint expanding tolerance and compassion to others. The negativity we feel is in our reactions to the world around us. Through extending positivity, even through force, we will attract more in others around us. This is why I chose to be exuberant about most holidays.
But there are some that cannot be denied their negative impact, like this one. Firsts without are often difficult, but when they come at a time of other significant problems, the additional variables can not only tip the balance, but topple the scales entirely. I know of no family untouched by both extreme financial limitations and psychological illness. These factors can be distracting to the point of pain in themselves, but combined with other unhappiness they can be completely overwhelming.
Although my hermit-like isolation has seemed to lead me better over-all emotional well-being, of late I have been unable to maintain this physical and psychological isolation. For nearly nine months, I have processed sever social anxiety, nearly eliminating extreme pain in favor of tolerable irritation with moments of justifiable intensity. From an inability to telephone or even e-mail, I have reached the point of driving under emotional duress while maintaining a pleasant and un-shaking demeanor. Perhaps this is where the problem lies.
Because it is in lies that I believe this pain started; the lies of composure while inside my head was ringing with screams and my guts were twisted with impotence. By cutting off the world, I did not need to know how ineffectual I could be at helping the people I love. This month has glaringly mirrored my inabilities over my abilities. I have called upon myself to return to an appearance of "normalcy" when I am knowingly unsuited. I will be called upon to face the culmination of my fears with a deep sense of blame, even knowing that blame falls on my compassion for others. My physical boundaries will continue to be tried as deeply as my emotional expanses.
I had hoped that by writing I could once more purge my emotional restraints that I believe cause this intense pain, but I find myself accepting it instead with the relief that I expect to actually receive medical assistance soon for a change. When I look at the sum total, I better understand the purpose of pain.