Tag Archives for chronic illness

Keep Safe Old Friend

Today is the birthday of a friend of mine from high school. I haven’t seen her in years, but I never forget that this day is her birthday. As many do, our paths diverged after high school: I went to university; she went right to work then soon became pregnant with her first child. Being from a religious family, they made her choices for her. She would marry the boy she barely loved, or knew well, and raise a family. That boy became an abusive husband and father, who beat her during both her pregnancies and whenever else it suited him; facts she hid from me for a long time.

When she first told me, I felt outraged and wanted to do everything in my power to punish him and to change her situation: she and her children could stay with me as long as necessary so she could figure out what she needed and wanted to do for herself, for them. She never left him because both families and her religion forbade it. Family elders and their priests counselled them, but the abuse never ended. It evolved, becoming the thing that controlled her life, isolated her, made her ill, and a shadow of the vibrant person she once was.

All these years later, I still become overwhelmed with grief and anger, and well up with tears when I think of the smart beautiful funny girl she was and the hopeless woman she became. There is nothing I wouldn’t have done to help her leave him and nothing I wouldn’t do now. On the odd occasion when we talk on the phone because he’s not lurking somewhere nearby, the topic and the possibilities of how she could leave still arise, but the fear she feels for herself and her children outweighs all else. So, I tell her to keep herself safe and reluctantly hang up and wait for the next time she calls.

I don’t know if she received the birthday message I sent to her by text this morning. I didn’t get a reply. I can only hope she did receive it and believe that telling her I love her makes a difference in her day, and in this fraction of her life. When you love someone that’s what you want for them: goodness and the best of everything. Even when you know, the chances of that happening are slim. Nevertheless, just in case, I’ll send another birthday wish into the universe for my old friend with all the love in my heart, and I’ll pray that she’s keeping safe.

 

Elton John – Friends

 

InkTober: Day 20 – Squeeze

It probably wouldn’t surprise anyone who knows me that I always squeeze my toothpaste – or other things that come in tubes – from the bottom. Nor would they be shocked to learn that I care about the direction toilet paper is rolled: it should always be from the top. I also like my dishes, and cans and boxes of food stacked and organized a certain way, as well as clothing and linens being folding and stored in distinct ways. When CDs were a big thing, I had a filing system for my CD collection, so I could easily know where to find music when I wanted to listen to something specific. My friends definitely mocked me for this, when I explained my system because they wanted to play or borrow music.

I’m not suggesting that I’m OCD – at least I’ve never been diagnosed – but I appreciate order. Although it’s become impossible to keep some of that order since becoming ill. Whether it’s because I’m too tired or sore to do something the way I usually would, or trying not to be rude when someone takes the time to help me. The order that I once prided myself on keeping is falling by the wayside. There seems to always be dishes in my kitchen sink. I rarely put away all my clothes, whether immediately after being laundered or if they don’t make the cut when I’m choosing an outfit, and because of that I have a perpetual mound of fabric sitting atop the chair in my bedroom; and sometimes on the side of the bed on which I don’t sleep. I recently told a friend that I need a desk. He replied, “You don’t need a desk. You need a dining table.” Alluding to the fact that my dining table is now littered, with all the things (my laptop, pens, markers, pencils, notebooks, sketchbooks) I would want to place on a desk.

I can’t seem to muster the energy to get things in order. However, I don’t necessarily believe it’s a bad thing that I’m not so strictly organized anymore. The energy I once squeezed into cleaning or making sure I placed things in specific places, even when I was exhausted, isn’t channelled into those areas anymore – not that I don’t have my moments of weakness when someone does me the favour of doing my dishes. I’m using that energy, when it’s available to me, to do creative things and take care of myself. Furthermore, instead of a place where things are always neatly organized, I’m enjoying the idea of having a home that looks and feels lived-in.

InkTober - Day 20 - Squeeze

 

InkTober: Day 19 – Flight

I envy the freedom of animals with the ability to fly. Reaching the heights of the clouds and floating above everything on the ground. I suppose that’s why I love huge roller coasters that make you feel like you’re so high in the air you might fall off the earth; and, why I’ve gone skydiving. I wanted to get back on the plane and climb up to 10,000 feet so I could glide down again, as soon as I landed and collected my parachute. It might even have been why I enjoyed gymnastics so much when I was younger. If I try hard, I can vividly remember swinging between the uneven bars then releasing my grip from the high bar and feeling my body in flight for mere seconds before landing in the safety of the mats.

Such bodily freedom shouldn’t belong only to animals with wings.

InkTober - Day 19 - Flight