Get Back on the Horse – Overcoming Pain and Finding Joy Again

Ironic that my last blog I wrote was called Finding Joy.

Somehow misery always comes after I am feeling my best.

It is like I get a glimpse, enough of a glimpse to keep trying. Like a golfer who this time believes they won’t top the ball, as long as their knees are bent, and then wham, they hit it and plop, it drops three feet in front of them. But there is that one shot, that one perfect shot that soars through the sky like a bird taking flight and it goes the distance as you cup your hand over your eyes to watch it drop hundreds of feet away. There it goes, the perfect shot. The one that you know that you can do and the one that you forever try to recreate. Every other ball that you whack is just frustrating, useless, misery.

I cannot seem to balance my mental and physical health; it is like if one is good then the other has to be bad. Why?

I have been feeling joyful, the weights usually behind my eyes have significantly lessened over the last few months. I could feel the difference. It tasted like a chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream that I never wanted to end.

Last night I woke up at 1am with a familiar cramping pain in my bowels. It twisted and ripped, like someone was using my intestines as a rag that they were squeezing every last drop out of. On the toilet, on the floor, on the toilet, on the floor, on the toilet, on the floor I alternated until 5am. I meditate with different YouTube videos I find to try to pass through the pain and get me to the other side. I pray. I cry. And worst of all, I just wonder. Why?

How dare I enjoy life for a few weeks, how dare I! It’s like a jail sentence, misery in my head or pain and misery oozing from my body.

What stupid thing did I forget to do this time? Did my endometriosis start growing back? Did the scar tissue they saw on the MRI finally decide to start twisting it’s way around my colon? Is it some of the medication I am on? Why didn’t I drink more water? Why did I eat that greasy food? Why, just why? I ruin everything. I ruined my plans for shopping, decorating, and cooking for Easter. I ruined my plans for quad rides and hot tub drinks. I RUIN EVERYTHING.

I AM SO DAM SICK OF BEING SICK.

I’m being hard on myself, and I am not being grateful that people that have it a whole lot worse than me. So now, I can add bad, pathetic, mopey, spoiled little girl who needs to feel sorry for herself to my repertoire of things I am mad at myself for.

The physical pain is intense and lasts for hours but this mental pain I have dug myself into seems like a hopeless pit of doom that I must pull myself out of again. Get back on the horse Michelle. Get back on the horse. You fall; you get back up. Get back on the horse. Fuck you Horse, I’d rather just walk. Why do I have to be riding free on your back with the wind whipping through my hair and the sun shining through the trees or I have to be laying in the mud, bucked off of you, once again.  Where is just mediocrity?

The more I live and learn, the more I know that my life was not meant for mediocrity. As much as I wish it was some days, it isn’t who I am meant to be. Dopamine is my drug of choice. It is that constant reward I get for being bold, funny, creative, brave, and living like I have no limits.

When I feel the most alive, soaking in all the joy, it is where my soul feels at home. I would rather do anything to get home again or hit that perfect golf drive, then to lie here in defeat. So here I go again, call that horse over and make sure she’s got a good saddle because I’m going for another ride.

Chat again soon,

Michelle