Trying to Recuperate

My right arm is partially numb, wrist swollen. Over use maybe. Double crush syndrome most likely. I can still type at least! Just overdid everything with my bad neck thing. So I have to take it easy for awhile, need to force myself to, but I get bored and lonely and don't "rest up" easily.

Sometimes I think about the fact whatever is left of my life will be mostly painful. I try not to think about that too much, however, because it would be hard to get out of bed or do anything if I thought about it.

Sometimes I wonder if marijuana would help. They say it helps pain. I once asked my PCP about it, if it might help me have better quality to my life, but he cited his religion, that he didn't believe in marijuana. I asked briefly about the science behind its pain relief, but realized it was a useless request for information. He had extreme religious beliefs that included being against marijuana.

I don't see much difference, actually, because he would write prescriptions for dangerously addicted and abused pain meds. I don't take narcotics because they just make me irritable and constipated. So I've wondered about marijuana and if it would help lower my pain some.

I have a different doctor now after my old PCP suddenly quit and moved away. I've seen her a couple of times, but I don't even think about going to see her about pain. She'd just want to write a prescription for narcotics or something like them. There really is no answer for me. This is permanent, the damage to my spine. I still curse Portland Adventist for the beating their psyche ward staff inflicted upon me that left me this way. I got no justice and that does bother me. I try not to think about that either because there's nothing I can do about it.

I don't think much of the Adventist church as a result. The hypocrisy of what they did to me and what they say in their little Adventist mission statement on the home page for their medical center is really vomit producing. I guess I have to laugh about that. Maybe I could cough up a huge disgusting hairball one day on their front step. Most religious practitioners are hypocritical in one way or another and I don't fault them for so being. Nobody's perfect and we're all just faulty humans. But when it comes down to criminal hypocrisy that's a different matter.

It's hard sometimes to look into the future at all, when walled in by pain. I try to remain optimistic, but it is hard. I am alone. I try not to think about that either. Sometimes at night I do. I reach for the phone to call someone and there's no one to call.

I know I've lost readers because I don't conform to what they think I should be or what I should write. But listen, I'm just a struggling human, full of faults, and hopes, and sadness's and memories and experiences. Like everybody. I like some things and I don't like others. I have no answers. I am about as far from a saint as one could get. So when people move on from reading here because I've disappointed them or not lived up to what they think I should be, I just can't say much but goodbye. It's my life. My history has produced what I am now. I can't even classify what I am, which is probably good. There's too much button holing going on everywhere.

Button holing, putting people into slots with nice tidy labels is like killing them, relegating them to inanimate.

Alive things change. Alive things make mistakes. Alive things move on. Alive things feel, rage, sob, rant, fight and laugh. Alive things die.

Alive is an incredibly messy state of being. Chaotic even. I do love the chaos that is life.

I've had trouble sometimes seeing edges. For instance, I relate to cats soul to soul. The shimmering light boundaries of the physical being are blurred to me. I miss the boundary edges with my eyes sometimes and I forget other people see them clearly.

I see all living beings, even things we call inanimate objects moving in a soup and coalescing light into denser forms we call each other. I see the form as tentative, maybe a necessity, but the edges are harder for me to recognize.

It is hard for me not to see the world this way. Do others see it this way too?

What do I have to do to heal then? Things are rubbing hard on each other, angrily. Become less dense, let my form move apart. That's the only way I know to describe it. I can picture what my body needs and this is just the way I see things. Or imagine they are. I don't know how to make the hurting parts move away from each other, give space, lightness. but in my mind, the way I see things, that is what needs to happen.