Struggling

Turns out that my back had other ideas when I thought that I had finally got on top of it.  It has been a pesky bugger all week, requiring 2 more visits to the osteopath and physio.  Normally, I would just get on with life and accept this on-going maintenance.  Normally, I would breeze through and do whatever has to be done.  Normally, I would look at the positives and know that I am getting stronger day by day.  Normally, I would know that it is through hardship that we grow.  Normally, I would smile and tell people that  I am doing well.  Normally, I would try to make myself believe that we are what we think.  Normally, I would accept that everything happens for a reason.

But you know what, this week I am DONE with all the things I would normally do.

After what has been nearly a year, I am done with picking myself up over and over.  I am done with pulling myself together and being positive.  I am done with thinking that my back is allowing me to grow stronger as a person.  I am done with trying everything under the sun in the hopes it will help.  I am done with my back consuming my thinking all day, every day.  I am done with being in pain.  I am done with not being able to do what I want to do.  I am done with getting home and being in so much pain I have no choice but to be relegated to bed.  I am done with not being able to go for walks or bike rides.  I am done with not being able to have baths.  I am done with having to put on a brave face.

And so, I have cried.  And cried.  And cried.

Has all this crying helped?  No.  I still feel crappy.  But I do feel relief that for once, I am not having to pretend that I am coping with all of this. 

It's been a long year.  I am tired.  And sad.