Drowning

Have you ever thought of what scares you most?

The thought of drowning has always been scary to me.

I do fine in water, enjoy swimming, and grew up canoeing down the Columbia River.  

I am not scared of water, I'm scared of drowning.

The thought of all the fight I can muster getting me nowhere.  

The thought of that moment when the body must reflexively gasp for air, but draw in the killing water instead.

That scares me.

Usually I've been able to handle my pain.  

Usually it goes up and down on a day-to-day basis.  

Since I started on various medications to manage symptoms I can usually go from day to day with hope.  

Hope that tomorrow will give me that breath of fresh air I need to at least make it to the next breath.

It has been so long now since my last breath of fresh air.

It has been so long now since I've had low enough levels of pain that I could push it to the back of my worries and enjoy something else today.

I feel like I'm drowning in pain.  

And that scares me.

You know the old saying "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

I've seen the following retort "I don't know if it's killing me or making me stronger."

I don't know.

What causes all this pain?

There are no definite answers for so many of my painful conditions.

What will ease this pain?

There is no single answer, and every individual who suffers must forge her or his own path.

I have tried one thing after another. 

Good diet?  I ate beautifully for three weeks.  Three of the most painful weeks I've lived.

Exercise?  Walking through the grocery store can put my legs in screaming pain.  Doing a yoga video ties my mid-back into knots.  Walking up and down the stairs too many times makes my knees scream in agony.  Doing a load of dishes often leaves me unable to raise my arms at all.

Therapy?  I don't have the emotional or financial reserves right now to spend another few hundred dollars a month of professional therapy.  I write.  I talk with others who are fighting.  I read and work through issues with purpose.  Having done some therapy in the past I'm doing the best I can to create self-therapy.  Not perfect, I know, but the best I can create at the moment.

Alternative Medicines?  I use essential oils to ease some pains.  I use yoga as possible to try to promote strength and length in my muscles.  I have not tried a chiropractor because I'm afraid of how bad it could be if it doesn't go well.  

One of my goals has been to avoid constant pain medications.  I do not want the worry of addiction.  I do not want to have to jump from pill to pill, or patch, or injection in order to keep my pain to a livable level.  

I am starting to wonder if I will have to give up this dream.  I have a few pain pills on hand for particularly bad times.  Usually I make it several weeks between doses.  I have had to resort to the pain medication just to be able to think straight.  After lying for hours last night wrapped in a heated blanket trying to warm up and relax enough to sleep I finally gave up.  As soon as the pain medicine kicked in I finally got a few hours of sleep.  until it wore off.

How bad can it really be?  You're making it up.  Just ignore it and it will go away.  It's all in your mind.  If you'd talk to a psychiatrist you'd be fine.  You just want attention.  You're lazy.  Maybe it's just depression.  You'd feel better taking fewer pills.  

I've either heard it, or thought it.  Probably both.  Yes, I worry about these things.  At some point, though, I have had to stop fighting that my body cannot do it all.  Acceptance has allowed me to make some changes that have given me some relief.  Fighting it just allowed more conflict and less peace.  

What if I'm drowning in a pool two inches deep?  That is one of my great worries.  All I can say is that I've swum as far as I can to find the edges.  I've lifted my head as high as I can.  I cannot find the top or the edges.

How much pain can drown you?  Last night if someone had assured me that if I ran around the block one time I would be forever healed, I could not have stood on my two feet to even open the door.  Even wanting it as strongly as I do, it is now beyond my physical capability.

I think I'm drowning.

If it wasn't for a hand here and a piece of flotsam there I'd long since be sunk.

It is time to seek a lifeboat.