Let the Horses Burst Forth.

OK, *FINE!* It started.

I am a tried crone tonight, and will begin my blogging adventure by posting several of my most heartfelt pieces. 

I can not express the depth of gratitude I feel for the support of people who have urged me to of this. Gracias. 

Soon, I will write a bit of a biography, so people will better understand what is going on with me physically. Emotionally? Well soon, you'll see, I'm not your ordinary gimp.

I beg o' you that you comment, even with, a "Me Likey." It would make my day. This needy one is not too high to grovel.

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Piece One, Written Wednesday-Thursday February 25-26. Midnight hours.

"LITTLE DEATHS"

I am not going to last long, lasting here, but really want to write this, as I believe it affects *every.single.one.of.us.* And I am the worst one at containing my thoughts….Here goes:

If you have read my posts of late, you will know that today was difficult for me. I was very upset about something, but it all worked itself out just fine within a couple of hours.

I realize that my descent into this completely self-inflicted hell is a direct result of my present health (and an occasional tendency to go in that direction when sensing hurt). I am extremely sleep deprived; I haven't slept well in weeks. On top of it, the degree of my ongoing, considerable illness, and the resulting “life-in-chair” existence month after month, well, it simply got the best of me this morning. No more, no less. Phew. How wonderful to get over *that* hump!

I suspect that I am not alone in these occasional “episodes of desperation.”

Grief is not all “six-feet-under-related."

Among those of us suffering any debilitating conditions, be they physical or emotional/mental, some will understand my saying “little deaths” to describe the true, bonafide grief we feel over the loss of the things that have been taken away from us —  dreams, routines, jobs, personalities, and wonderings -- now gone. There are not really many places to “go” with that grief. You don’t want to be self-sorry. You don’t want to burden people. You don’t want to be a whiner.

But hell, there has been loss. Each one of us bears grief over our individual life and its “little deaths.” Relationship loss. Loss of a companion pet. Job loss or change. Loss of friendships. Loss of physical “attractiveness (deliberately in quotes).” Loss of self-esteem. Loss of our very senses of identity. Loss of family relationships.

I used to be many things. Things that I can no longer be, due to illness. I have many interests, so typically handle it well, engrossing myself in my writing, for example. But, yep, there are DAYS.

Today, I thought about my jobs, interrupted; my singing cut short; and about friends who are no longer friends. The list of little deaths is a very, very long one. And I do grieve my little deaths. They aren’t so little

I thought about body surfing. I hope that I will BE in that ocean again, even if to only catch one wave and then limp to bed for three days. On that day, I will celebrate with you. 

And now. I am in a very good mood -- got an unexpected phone call that further enriched a project I'm working on; I made a cartoon, and I ate a delicious chicken-pot-pie that I brought yesterday from the bakery. Oh my God. Then I watched a bit of wonderfully silly and fun TV, "Revenge," and now here, before turning in. I can not complain about my spirits in the least.

It took me a long time to write this! But I am happy that I did. I was so highly stressed out today that I am now dearly, dearly paying the price. How silly. Very high head pain, head-shocks, tinnitus, and blurry vision. All part of this journey.

I am afraid that I must say good night. I optimistically suspect, for some weird reason, that I will sleep well tonight.

And you? What did you lose?

Love Joana

Below -- my cartoon from this afternoon. I have been cancer-free for 8 years, but the worsening ravages continue. This is how I feel sometimes: