Chronic vs. Acute

Thinking today about the emotional pain on this journey...the acute pain and the chronic pain.

In those first few days, weeks, months...the pain was acute, overwhelming all of my senses, as sharp as the razors my child dragged across her skin to see the blood...to feel the physical pain that might distract her from her emotional pain.

I took a job...it was helping others, the less fortunate. There isn't much that can make you feel as good about yourself as giving of yourself to those who need you the most. But I wasn't ready. In an effort to escape my pain, I stomped in like a bull in a china shop, determined to do all I possibly could to change the world for as many people as I possibly could. My co-workers would warn me, I was working too hard, getting too emotionally involved, not setting and keeping borders to protect myself. I should have listened...but the good feelings were addictive, especially when I was suffering so. So what if I spent all my paycheck on my clients...cigarettes, fast food meals, cash...it made them so happy, so grateful. It felt good. After a few months of giving away TOO much...whether it was money, time, or emotional support...I began to burn out. I would drive home from work, late nearly every day, running on fumes...stumbling to my sofa with my work lap-top. I wasn't supposed to do my notes off the clock, I wasn't supposed to use my personal internet server, but I simply did not have time to do it at the office. By the end of the day, I just had to get home. I would get my work done at home and pass out on the couch in my work clothes. My husband would wake me up when it was time to go to bed. Only after a night's sleep could I summon the energy to shower. I started crying as I got dressed sometimes, because I wasn't measuring up to the impossible standards I had set for myself. Anyone in mental health will tell you. You NEVER get everything done that you want and need to do. You are overwhelmed and just try to keep your head above water, till you can't. The day I put in my notice I was very sneaky. See, I loved my team. A finer group of people you would never find. They were as spent as I was...but they had more resources to draw from, they hadn't suffered the trauma that I had. They were whole, I was broken. As word slowly got around and folks started asking questions, well, I lied. I told them I just needed a break but I would be back. I couldn't tell them goodbye. They loved me too much and I lloved them more...so I kept up the ruse for 2 weeks. On my last day, I pretended nothing was wrong, nothing was changing, I avoided everyone the best I could...turned in my lap-top, company credit card, and cell-phone to the office manager without making eye contact and when no one else was around.

It was a bridge, the job, from the daily severe pain to the chronic with occasional severe pain. Now most days it's a dull ache that never leaves...and when the razors come for my heart I break down, cry, scream, get it out and usually move on. Back to the simple sadness. I read...it's just as important to breathing...I watch t.v....fight on Facebook (I must say the election has been a great (or is it horrible) distraction...

I want to run away. Everywhere, here, I see Cassi. We lived here our whole lives. Everywhere I look I see her, a memory of her, a reminder of losing her. I drive past the hospital where she was born, the best day of my life...when I had all the dreams in the world for her and would have gladly died to protect her, though in the end, I couldn't. My husband does not want to move, yet he says he can't live without me. Do I call his bluff??? How unfair, we have always lived where he wanted, and he sees the pain this place causes me. Could I make it without him??? Only way to know is to try, but am I ready??? I don't know.