Each morning I wake up, I think the same thing. "Man, that was a bad dream," I'll suppose, before opening my eyes. Then, as I get conscious to the feelings in my body--the cold in my stomach, the ache in my neck, the stinging in my arms and feet--I remember; that wasn't a dream. I really am living this nightmare.
Being chronically sick is like that. It's like the movie Groundhog Day and I'm Bill Murray smashing the alarm clock, praying for it to end. Some days, I play with it. I kiss the annoying Maitre d'. I pretend it isn't happening. Other days, I'm consumed by it...wrapped up in doom, covered with despair. This morning, as I stared at the clock, I couldn't escape the sadness. Even in my dreams, pain was with me. I was chased. I was sued. I was blamed. And, I was forced to eat onions...handfuls and handfuls of freshly cut, eye-stinging onions.
I do not want to get up today. I do not want to fight. I do not want to drink vegetables, sweat in saunas, or watch Wayne Brady dance on Let's Make a Deal. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to punch. I want to destroy something...before it destroys me.
In many cultures, destruction is a good thing. In the movie Outsourced, Kali--the Hindu goddess of destruction--is kept on a taxi's dashboard...just as a reminder.
Kali, the goddess of destruction
"Why would you want the goddess of destruction in your car?" the main character questions.
"Sometimes destruction is a good thing," reminds his guide.
"She ends one cycle so a new one can begin."
In the end, destruction creates a better life for Bill. He lives in the moment. He becomes more compassionate. He learns to seize the day. In the middle, though, it's tough. And I'm right there-- trying to escape destiny and falling into puddles.
Altered Today: Being with Winter.