november 24

It’s a terrible feeling, wanting to so desperately do something but physically unable to do so. Pushing through the pain, thinking if I could just bear it a little longer, go a little farther–if I could just treat it as a challenge, I can overcome anything. But I’ve learned that physical pain doesn’t work like that. It’s not something to be proud of, being able to withstand the pain until it hurts too much and it doesn’t just affect me physically but also mentally and emotionally. It probably took me twice as long to walk halfway to the grocery store. It’s almost shameful to see other people walking normally to their destinations, while I’m carefully placing one foot in front of another, hobbling, not wanting to trigger another wave of pain. Sometimes I have to stand by the side of the road and squeeze my eyes shut and press my frozen fingers against my temple in hopes of numbing the pain. They don’t know how much they take it for granted, being able to walk. Being able to go anywhere they want. I can’t even walk 10 minutes to the grocery store. It is so difficult and shameful and frustrating. I started taking a new painkiller, diclofenac sod er. I am not supposed to take ibuprofen with it, and I wouldn’t dare, but how I wish I could.