arthritis

To A Teacher

Once and for all the silence . . . so close to Eden . . .

Sunshine on the Mighty Miramichi! Great day to be on the river! Especially after many days of grey. The waterfowl continue to fascinate and enthrall. Yesterday we went to Eel Ground, Sunny Corner, and Red Bank. Lots of snow there still. Biting wind yesterday. A good excursion though. Lots happening. I never realized how close all the communities are, especially Sunny Corner and Red Bank. I semi-recall going to a dance back there one time. At the legion? A teen dance? Maybe an adult one. All so long ago now.

Today I am going for a walk, outside! For real. There are things I need to do, places I need to go. It’s time to get off my butt and get stuff done. Not that I’ve been lazing, I’ve just been otherwise occupied. I need to take care of some stuff. A relief to have decided against going to Frye, both financially and mentally. I gained a week! And I need longer than that still. I’ve also pulled out of some weekend commitments. I need to be home for a bit. I need to be alone with my computer and words. It’s nearly May! And I’m starting to pull my hair out. My house is collapsing in on me. All go, all the time, drives me crazy.

Things were supposed to slow down once I moved. A friend said we bring our pace with us, wherever we go, and if mine was frenetic before, and that’s how I live, then it will also be frenetic here. This does seem to be the case. But it’s not what I want. I want calmness. I want balance. I want to be in control of the pace, on top of the work, and not being flung every which way, not be a slave to my life. I’m tired. Something’s gotta give. I’ve got to figure it out. I don’t know how much longer I have before burn-out. I’ve already given up so much, backed out of so much . . . surely there must be room for me in this life somewhere. Surely, I can make room for me and the things I care about sometime, somehow, somewhere.

Ah, every joint aching. This explains much of today’s mood. Pain does it every time. Temperature must be rising . . . or falling. Here we go again.

Mood: panicked
Drinking: earl grey, hot
Listening To: i want to be the boy, the white stripes
Hair: being plucked by the roots

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Categories: arthritis, balance, rambling

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