I have been wide-frickin-awake since 6:30am. I got a few hours sleep; aside from insomnia, my hips are raging sore from bursitis. Not only could I NOT sleep, I could not find a comfortable position to lay in.

I can’t do it today. Just can’t. I can’t rely on my brain to be … functional. I can’t live in this body comfortably. That’s not to say I want to die. In fact, I think this uncomfortableness may be a driving force keeping me alive.

I long for those mornings when I wake up easily. I open my eyes and there’s a gentle morning light in the air. I have, somehow, reconfigured the pillows in my sleep to the perfect nest around my body, and it feels GLORIOUS. Nothing hurts, no nagging aches, and for half a second I feel like I could bounce through the next week like Tigger.

Today in more Eeyore stuffed with Tigger and Rabbit.Rabbit is such a worry-wart, and crabby.

The pain isn’t always raging, and it isn’t always pain that knocks me down. It’s the endless hours of not being able to find a comfortable position to just BE, and not be thinking about body parts that need rearranging. It’s incessant. There isn’t a moment in which my mind isn’t simultaneously checking in with various body parts to see how they feel. My brain is like a mother of 3 year old octoplets with Tourette’s – exhausted, drained, incoherent, delirious. Frustrated. Angry.¬†Then add some more pain on top of that on a bad day.

Today I did not wake up in my perfect nest of pillows.

But I might tomorrow.


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