personal stuff · writing

I don’t really talk about myself…

Why? It’s boring, that’s why. If it’s dull to me, how is it to other people? I was raised not to air your laundry in full view of the public! My family sometimes make stoic look like a happy face emoticon! Seriously, who wants to know about my prolapsed and ruptured disc? The months spent on morphine (two different kinds) on gabapentin and every step taken was like a shard of metal lancing up my leg (and later legs) right into my spine like an electric shock! My seven year old could walk faster than me. Or what about the surgery, the removal of 20% of my disc and taking away of all the disc material that had leaked out and was pressing on both my major nerves. What about the slow withdrawal of morphine, the reduction of other painkillers, which is now impossible due to residual pain and scar tissue, the sleepless nights, the tiredness? Nobody wants to hear about that stuff. I know I don’t. So why, oh why do I get followers on Twitter telling me they can help me control chronic/acute pain symptoms? As I tweeted, I’ll tell you how, give me a bionic spine, that’s how. And while they’re at it, why not give me a new heart that works right too!! I tell you, honestly, all I want to do is live a healthy life. Not really normal, cause I’m really not, I fight against the rigidity and stereotypes of life all the time. So, all I ask it to be in less pain (preferably none) and to get on with living, writing, enjoying and loving my family, my kids, laughing, having fun, making great memories!! I don’t want to talk about that side of me. Please…


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