The warped door

All doors in my 1915 Craftsman style "lady" who graces me with a quirky shelter--my "home away from home for 4 years this August"

My head throbs.

eyes burn.

neck tenses.

The pain courses through my body.

I'm trying not to listen.

Then should I?

Would it be best to take a muscle relaxer --

the one that mixes gently with a non-narcotic pain killer and eventually soothes me to sleep?

Normally I would.

But tonight my head tells me this is the difficult headache.

This is the one that comes with

too little sleep,

too much work,

-----Getting Off-balance.

A trip to Cincinnati

from my small town

is responsible--

does it

almost

every time.

Four hours of driving one way.

once there--antsy--wired

from coffee

trucks

thoughts

Then: finally

sleeping as if drugged

(without being drugged)

not a "good" sleep.

Then:not truly awakening

until late afternoon--

Yet--if you look at me you would think

I'm awake.

After all:

I'm dressed,

up and moving,

slowly,

but still-- moving.

Want to know

the test

that

will reveal

the truth?

Ask me a question.

Expect an answer.

Wait--

Wait some more.

"Uh, hey, are you there?"

[yea, i'm here-- somewhere--not quite sure where though]

"Well, could you answer me?"

[no, i can't.]

"But, I need an answer---now."

[wish i could]

The truth?

I know where I am.

Yet you can't see where I am,

so why should I try to tell you?

I can't describe where I am.

WELL --I could try

probably won't.

Why not?

Because:

even the mention of this place might

irritate you.

You don't want to hear about it.

Why?

Is it fear of entering that place and not finding a way out?

Or

Is it fear of feeling guilty?

Might you actually feel a need to do something?

What?

The tough task--yes, that one

Slow down,

take a deep breath,

and wait---just wait.

Forget for just a few moments

about all you need to do

and wait--just wait

while I figure out the words

that are there

somewhere in my head.

Lose the impatience--

that only shoves me deeper into that place.

Because:

If you use the right tone

sigh the right sigh (over the phone)

or give me "the right look" (if you're with me)

I will scramble for cover

end up in a corner

ashamed

embarrassed

saddened.

And you

will

be

angry (this is all metaphorical you---I'm not aiming at anyone nor do I literally hide) .

God wants me to attempt an explaination,

so (sigh)

I will.

Tonight I'm in that fibro--in- between--world

Can't find the door to REM -the sleep one, not the music group!:)

But the door to full awareness is jammed --

as if it's warped from moisture---change in the weather.

Warped--I'm smiling now---I just came up with another word for having fibromyalgia---being a

warped door (in my case "a been around awhile" door).

The warped door is still functional--still worth keeping---it still opens and shuts---

Granted--you have to shove against it with full body weight

or--

Tug until you're convinced your shoulder has been displaced.

But---hey--you eventually get the door shut or open.

True--you're frustrated.

Want to take it off its hinges

Perhaps it would make a quirky headboard?

Surely there's another use for it.

But it's

still

a good door.

It's unique

Even beautiful in certain light

the scratches,

chipped paint,

dents,

mottled color--

together they make the door--well--

the special door that it is.

That's my world--a bit warped--but still beautiful

and

unique.

Be patient with those you know who suffer with chronic pain.

Look "real hard" for the beauty in the:

scratches (edgy, cranky tone/mannerisms-signs the pain level is up)

chipped paint(the lines/wrinkle--wear and tear of pain; puffiness, weight gain--meds)

dents (the memory lapse--multiple reasons)

mottled color(when effort to put on makeup is too much--exhausted-but out of bed; stress rash--they're trying to"it together")

and you might just get a glimpse

of what

God sees

and

LOVES.

(An important note: I do not pity myself nor do I want pity. I don't sit around saying, "Why me, God?" There have been times in the past when I did that. Waste of time, precious time. Now, I try to do what I know will help me feel better. Tonight it was to write.)