I've toyed with removing the previous posting because it's sooooo self-indulgently cry-baby-ish. But I'm leaving it.
The theme of this blog is to dwell on the happy. To push for the positive and hopefully to be of some small help to anyone who might be going through the hell of suicidal thoughts that I went through. The whining about my physical pains seems counter to that.... but is it?
Yes I feel like crap: physically. But I dragged myself down the block to the gym because I had an appointment with the wonderful Rafael, my friend and trainer, and I hoped that some weight training might help. Sadly it seems not to have. All I want to do right now is go to sleep and not feel these pains. But I feel compelled to address last night's pity party.
I hurt, and I was angry that I hurt. I felt sorry for myself a bit, but mostly PISSED OFF. I'm pissed that going through whatever the hell this pain crap is, I'm pissed that it was bad enough to affect my plans, I'm pissed! But unlike my prior M.O. I am not pissed at myself. I'm not turning my anger on me. I didn't do anything to deserve this pain and I can't blame myself for it. I think being angry at the pain instead of at myself is healthier; because once the rage turns inward... pow... there's that Depression. And I will NOT allow it. (Much easier to not allow it because of the Zoloft!)
So *ouch* I'm hurting.
Pisssssssed that I missed a show I wanted to see.
Really severely unhappy with the state of my pain.
I can laugh
I can find a way to fix this pain nonsense
I can be happy.
Because I'm alive.
And everything is going to be okay. Strike that. Everything is going to be GREAT!