The Black days I don't write about

This is when I admit to black days I don't write about, to days I want to curl up in bed and cry all day. To the times I want to throw things and watch them break and shatter. I don't want to see those things in me but it's there, the anger and rage I don't know what to do with and know being distructive will not turn back the clock, will not change this accident and it sure won't help me deal with all the paperwork, push myself to walk when I hurt, get the dishes done.

I battle nightmares that make me dread going to bed, have me digging wildly through the quilts for the stuffed bears that share my bed, the 1 my mom made me when I was 16, the 1 sons Ben and Jake bought mom a few years back.

I won't have any rum or Jack Daniels in the house--because it would be too easy to have 'just a bit' to help me sleep' and get to were I was drinking more, and to where it was Every night, maybe during the day when I had a lot of stress.

I knit like I am possessed at times, trying to deal with the stress, trying as I work complex patterns in red wool, to work on untangling the thoughts and fears and worries rattling about in my brains. I knit socks for Jake so that I am not chewing my nails down to the nail beds and so that I am able to control just something in my life and so that I can make something work right.

I see so many people battling so much more, having to face a far harder life than mine and think I am a whiney whimpy crybaby brat. God has blessed me over and over, I know that, I live with that every day, even this big footed, acts like 'mom velcro' dog is a part of those blessings. I have my health, I had no serious head injuries or spinal injuries and that man at fault was insured with State Farm and they are being great to deal with.

So, I can't dance, I can still enjoy the music, so I can't ride my bike for hours, I can walk my wild dog to the park and watch him run, knowing he won't run too far. So, the feet don't match, gee, neither do my breasts and I'm sure not crying about that one. My friends are few and rock solid, my 2 youngest sons are amazing guys and light up my life, they also think they have a special and talented mom..and accept she is just a bit different.

The roof leaks, but it's my house and all over the world there are women who don't have a roof or who don't have the right to make their own decisions, live their own lives.

I might not have sheep and spin my own wool into yarn any more. But I've been able to do that, and I can design and knit what suits me, I can change and adjust a pattern to make a sweater that fits me better and is 1 of a kind.

Even when I am walking on the edge of that huge black pit, my friends are standing solid to pull me back onto safe ground. They call, they come over, they take me places. And they accept my bad days but won't let me wallow in that pit of self pity. They celebrate the little things that make a high spot in my days. And most of all, they believe I will pull through this and be 'ok' in time. Their belief in me gives me strength and courage when it's needed most.

I put this in a file and didn't post it right away, it and I needed some time to think and reflect and decide if I would post it. Today is a better day than when I started this post. The sun is out, Julie spent the day, the cinnamon bread turned out good--despite the forgotten cinnamon, despite the filling running like syrup. Julie took part home with her, and chilies from my garden for her husband.

The red Aran is growing, the neck is done, the shoulder straps knit up nicely, the first sleeve is over 8 inches long. All the remaining yarn is hand wound into balls and there will be enough to finish it. Ben tried it on and I took some photos, he's now making comments about it being his sweater but he's not serious-- I am hiding it from him once it's done.

Kid is growing, he's doing well, I am very glad that stray, unwanted pup, lost pup came into my life several months ago and really glad no owner called to claim him. He's not always good, he's getting taller and bigger and I do spoil him some but he loves me and makes sure I know I am important, very important to him.

Doctor appointment, appointment at State Farm, dental appointment here in town tomorrow, it will be a run hard day and start early. I hope to get that release to return to work, know it's time, and know it will be a rough few weeks to start out, and no knowing if my foot and ankle will tolerate the work load. So, I will do the best I can to do my job and to take care of my foot and ankle and see what happens.

I know I can make my life work and cope if I cannot do the job at Cargill, I know financially there will be State Farm to compensate me, and my whole existance, my whole idenity is NOT my employment and job..but my fears about that, are part of what is causing the nightmares about being lost.

1 day at a time, that is all God gives me to really deal with, to live, so that is how I will get through the next couple weeks, 1 day at a time, hard and painful days as I adjust to being back at work after so long off. But I will take care of me, of foot and of my job duties. And if my foot and ankle cannot tolerate the job, I won't be an idiot and try to force my body to do what it just can no longer do. I want to keep my job, want my life back to as close to what it was before this accident but I know some things I cannot change and I will find a way to adjust and accept and build my world again, just different.