At the end of June in 2017 I was on life support for 6 days. One year exactly on the same day I snapped out of life support I visited the Pacific Ocean, not to prove to myself I was still here, but because I could.
I went to SUNY Cortland and lived a half an hour away in Whitney Point. One day I drove past my school exit on the highway and kept driving north. I got to Albany. Then I drove to Canada. Not just to show my newfound Independence but, because I could.
When I lost the ability to drive I began to write. Then I lost the ability to write and to type and I began to speak. My words still echo the page. I can still go anywheres I choose. I choose to stay in one spot. You are capable of anything you choose. When someone asks me why did you of all things I became a wife and mother, I reply, because I could. Because I can.
Remember the painter on PBS that always painted happy little trees? He had an afro, and he painted the most beautiful scenery. Yesterday I wrote a pretty depressing blog. It was more like a journal entry. But we can’t be happy all the time. I wish we could, but we cannot. We are still Human, After All.
Usually I always look on the brighter side of things. Today I am happy again with my happy little trees. Being aware of this fact, makes all the difference. I treat my emotions like they’re the ocean. The waves can get very high, but they always eventually crash on the banks of the beach. I wonder if that painter of the happy little trees painted happy little trees all the time. I bet you sometimes he painted dark, dismal, things. But they don’t show you depressing stuff on PBS.. so everyone remembers him as the painter who painted happy little trees. No one wants to remember the sad little trees.
And that is okay! It is good to be positive. I myself am a glass-is-half-full type of girl. But I’m also a realist. And I know that sometimes that tree is not that happy. But if you just ride that feeling out like a wave, you will find that new leaves grow on the tree. And it becomes a happy little tree once again. Sometimes you can’t make lemonade out of a lemon. Sometimes you just want to chop that lemon tree down. But that feeling will subside. And you will feel pretty damn guilty if you chop a lemon tree down for no good reason. So feel your feelings. Ride them out like a wave. Because they will eventually crash onto the beach. This too shall pass. Nothing lasts forever. Not this virus. Not your feelings. Nothing. Remember that the happy little tree will be happy once again. It’s just a matter of time. Today, paint yourself a happy little tree. And if that tree starts to turn dark, remind yourself that this too shall pass.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I try to never be this woman, but I am becoming that which I hate.
I am very disabled with Progressive multiple sclerosis. I cannot walk. I cannot really use my fingers. I haven’t been able to write my name in years. I am a school teacher. But it’s hard for me to even remember teaching as it has been 10 years since I was able to use a chalkboard. Even if I could teach with my wheelchair my hands are worthless! So I am on permanent disability. I try not to feel sorry for myself. So many have it worse. It sometimes I just have to have a pity party.
My husband has become forced to be my caregiver. He has to fill my sippy cups for me because my hands don’t work. He has to make my meals because I cannot use a stove or microwave. I feel like he very often represents me. He plays a lot of video games and I’m always disturbing him. And he gets so angry. He says I have no patience. I am really trying hard to have patience. But my life is waiting! Wait for this. Wait for that. Everything on someone else’s time. It a long time ago hurt my feelings. But now it is more than that. I am angry. A emotion I am not used to dealing with. I always try to live in love and light. Bud always competing with us video game is making me the scorned woman. I am a burden. I know this. But the people that have to help me have lower IQs than me. But I cannot insult them with my intelligence. So I just live in Waiting. Pretending that my brain is slipping like my body. Because that is the only way I can deal with anything. I have become the woman scorned. I do not know how to let go of my anger.
Now the world is under quarantine. We are battling an enemy we have never faced. A virus. But for me it’s just another day. I have lived in quarantine for nine years. So it is very difficult for me to see my daughter and my husband missing the world out there. For me there is no world out there! I am the woman scorned. I am downright pissed at the world.
I do not like to write these unhappy post. My posts are always filled with happiness. Today I needed to let go of some anger. Because I am the woman scorned. I am forgotten. I am alone. Instead of crying I am toughening-up. It is probably good that I don’t believe in guns. Because right now I feel very dangerous. Good thing I never leave the house. No one has anything to worry about. Except for this virus that is going around. honestly won’t affect me at all unless someone brings it in this house!
No one is stopping by anyways. No one wants to visit a a crippled who is the woman scorned. If anything of Interest ever should happen, I figured I should spread out my thoughts on paper. Because I don’t want to be remembered as the woman scorned. I want to be remembered as the woman with strength. The woman who is always positive. It is fitting that my blood type is B positive, because I’m always telling people to be positive. It is easier to give advice than it is to take it. For today, I will stay the woman scorned.