Sadness and… anger

So, y’all might have noticed that I haven’t been writing much. I’m dealing with some introspective issues. I have been dealing with them for some time, but this week has just brought them to the front more than usual.

Here is a picture Doug took of our driveway yesterday on his way back from the grocery store (it’s a short walk away). It looks much the same today:

That, dear reader, is a path that our tenant and friend dug out through the snow so she and Doug could traverse the driveway more easily. And I cropped a good deal of that pathway out of the picture for aesthetic purposes (Sorry Doug). We have a long driveway. The last time it snowed was Tuesday. It’s Saturday now. There’s still all of this snow on the ground. But I’m not sad about the snow. I like the snow. It’s very pretty. And if I were healthier, I would have shoveled a path myself and/or helped our friend shovel the entire driveway. I’ve done it before in similar situations.

And therein lies the problem. I’m not healthier. I have, for all intents and purposes, been snowbound in my house for over a week, and you know what, dear reader? It hasn’t made one iota of difference in my daily routine. Not one spot of change at all. I do the same exact thing snowbound as I do with a wide open driveway and access to the world. And that makes me sad. What makes me angry is that there’s nothing I can do about it. Even if there wasn’t a flake of snow on the driveway, I wouldn’t magically get well enough to traipse out into the world and start exploring it again. My lungs wouldn’t spontaneously heal enough for me to start walking like I used to. Hell, I’ve tried and failed to walk to the same grocery store that Doug walked to yesterday. It is a half a mile from our house. A half a mile dear reader. Do you know that when I met Doug about six years ago I waked upwards to seven miles without even thinking about it? Now I can’t even walk a half a mile? And the fact that I cannot heal myself, or walk a simple half a mile… well that, dear reader, that makes me angry. So these past few days I’ve been both — sad and just a little angry.

So I’ve been inside my head a lot these days. The snow is pretty, and I’m enjoying it. But the fact that this much snow is not really impacting my life much at all — other than to make the house chilly — just kind of struck me to the bone. If I had been snowbound in Mississippi, I’da been climbing the walls by now. Hell, if I had been snowed this long in Albuquerque, I’da been climbing the walls by now. And that wasn’t too long ago. But here? Eh… whatever. No skin off my nose if there’s two feet of snow on the ground. Whatever. So long as the power holds. *shrug*. That shows, I think, how much more sick I’ve gotten since moving here. I was at least still moving about in Albuquerque. I guess my complacency about the snow is helped by the fact that we stocked up on food and water before the snow hit. And that Doug didn’t have anywhere to be this past week because he was between jobs, and he couldn’t actually look for a job because the entire area was snowed in, so whatever. Right? I’m here, Doug’s here. We have food, water, and internet… we’re good. I guess… But I can’t shake the feeling that being snowed in should have affected me more.

Anyway, we are hoping the snow melts before next week so things can get back to normal. We might have to hire someone to plow our driveway so Doug can get his car out if the snow doesn’t melt soon. Me? I’ll come to terms with… everything eventually. I suppose. I mean I’ll have to, right? It’s been almost five years since I’ve become completely disabled, and I still haven’t come to terms with it. Denial, dear reader… it’s a bitch.

Anyway, that’s where my brain has been the last few days. Just in a blue funk. Thought I’d check in with y’all in case you worried about me. ๐Ÿ˜›

16 thoughts on “Sadness and… anger

  1. Sadje

    We are missing you. I hope that you are feeling better soon. Maybe the weather change will lift up the blues. Lots of warm and healing thoughts coming your way.

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  2. Ruth Tourjee

    I take so much for granted. I wish I could give you a lung. Not that mine are in great shape, but it sounds like they’re better than yours. I hope the snow melts so Doug can get his car out soon.

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    1. Willow Post author

      It doesn’t seem that long ago when we were doing that charity walk in New York. Like… what happened? O_o But here I am, can’t even walk to the end of my driveway without gasping for air. Blah. The snow is melting slowly but surely.

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  3. Melanie B Cee

    I’m so very sorry and yes I DO UNDERSTAND. I live the same way almost, just a bit better in the whole lung area, i.e. I can breathe. I count my blessings. But the depressing fact of being house bound is a hard thing to realize and then to accept. I watched a film yesterday about a very young woman (well 30s, which is young to me), who was diagnosed with colon cancer. Advanced and with little hope of remission. And she died. I wondered, a bit sniffy and teary eyed, WHY it is that those of us (and I’m only talking about myself here) who have no quality of life much don’t get the horrid, fast acting cancers or illnesses that take one away in short order? I realize that film was fiction and everything, but I’ve seen a LOT of those sorts of stories lately (for some reason) and each time I’m made angry afresh because I don’t die, when loads of folks who want to live DO. Take care of yourself Willow. It’s rare to find a friend who ‘gets’ you, but I think I’ve found such a person in you. I hope I do the same for you. And isn’t a shared burden lighter for the sharing? (sorry, I can see the rolled eyes and OMG, WHAT? face that you may be making, because that last thing was pretty sugary.) Sorry. Hold out. Tomorrow may well be better. And you’ve got Doug. Count that blessing most of all.

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    1. Willow Post author

      No, I get the sentiment of not wanting to live a crappy life, because while I haven’t actively been suicidal in a long time, there have been times in my past where I wished I’d just hurry up and contract some sort of horrible disease and just die already. I’m not in that head space now, because even though I’m house bound, my quality of life is… not bad. But yeah… been there.

      I selfishly like having you around too.

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  4. Prior...

    sending a blog hug of encouragement your way – and we all have our trials – but it does sound like yours is enormous and may grace and peace be yours hour by hour.

    and you do have a long driveway – and I like that cropped picture

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  5. wideeyedwanderingspoonie

    I feel for you. It’s the grief and the loss of the people we were, the life we had, the life we wanted, the life we’ll never have. That’s a lot of loss and a lot of grief to process. I’ve been diagnosed with an autoimmune disease for over 15 years now and I still fight that “shouldn’t there be more?” feeling. Adjusting to the “new normal” takes years and lots of introspective brain things going on inside your head and keep writing, it helps I think and the world needs your words. ๐Ÿ˜‰ ~JP

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  6. Marilyn Armstrong

    All of us who are chronically ill deal with this. I’ve been very sick with one lethal thing or another — NOT counting spinal arthritis which is the one thing that makes everything difficult — and that’s not entirely counting cancer and heart surgeries, as well as repairing my ulcerated intestines.

    I’ve spent months in the hospital and many more months recovering from massive surgeries at home. And I have lots of chronic issues too, but overall, they seem like small potatoes. Mostly, the hard part has been accepting that this is the way it is. The harder part is the terror I feel wondering how bad I’ll be in another 10 years.

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  7. JodiLea

    Willow,
    You are in my prayers. As I write this, the snow is falling heavily and the world is all black and white (I will probably post some photos on my blog later on, if you are interested). This is day 4 of 24/7 snow and it’s gotta be 4 feet deep at least. This is the most snow I have seen at once since moving to the western Sierra. It may very well “cure” my lifelong love affair with snow – Ha!
    Take care of your self and remember – things are great when the power stays on. And, you are not snowed in with a 2 year old, a 10 year old and their dog ๐Ÿ™‚
    TTFN

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    1. Willow Post author

      I was snowed in with my four kids and our two dogs (and a cat if I recall correctly) back when it snowed about this much in the eighties. Yeah, I lived here then with my first husband. We were snowbound for around four days I think… it’s been a long time. The only difference then is I didn’t have about half of the chronic difficulties that I do now, so we could go out and play in the snow then — build snow men, play with the dogs, dig out the driveway (made it a game), and so on. We totally didn’t have internet back then so we had to do *something*. I think I’d go bonkers without internet right now. Plus, my first husband was a handy, handy man. He was one of those types that couldn’t sit still, so our driveway (which wasn’t this long) was always free of snow. Too bad he was an ass.

      Sorry for the long reply. I sympathize, being stuck in the house with kids can be nerve wracking. Hope it stops snowing for ya soon. We have more forecast for Wednesday.

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