For a while now this song has been going around in my head. My head has been going around in circles. It’s getting tiring. I just want it to stop. I just want some clarity about what do I do now.
“Oh, Delilah Blue, what do we do now? What do we do now?
Magnolia memories fill my eyes and the sweet bird of youth done flown away
But don’t let anybody ever say
This old dancer never had her day
’cause this old dancer always knew we’d make it through, Delilah Blue.”
There is a growing amount of stress in my mind. It’s caused by a number of things. Health, wealth (or absence of it), family, oh and let’s not forget life in general. Admittedly the first three are perhaps giving the biggest stress, and then because the stress grows inside my head, it eventually becomes a case of everything. Everything has my head turning in circles, and it don’t feel too good. It’s time to take some action on the things that I still have a little control over. Maybe that will make the uncontrollable things seem less daunting.
Some of you might know that I started another blog recently. If you didn’t know, it’s just that I hadn’t got to you yet. For those that did know, the blog no longer exists. I quickly realised that it wasn’t going to serve the needs I had. Everything is now gone, so if you missed my most recent posts there, then you’ve missed. Apologies if you think I messed you around. That wasn’t my intention. It’s just sometimes it’s easy to see that “this ain’t going to work“. It didn’t.
For those of you who didn’t know I started a new blog, life goes on as it was. In time, I may (or then again, may not) publish the material from there on here. Meanwhile I’m still answering my question “what do we do now?“.
Back to the real purpose of this post though. There’s one thing I really hate and that’s not being in control. I spent years with an eating disorder all about that issue. I couldn’t control aspects of my life so I chose to control how little food I put in my mouth and how many hours exercise I did each day. So I know control has the potential to bite me (excuse the pun). Not just on food though, I know it has the potential to destroy me… if I let it.
I seem to have little control over my physical health right now. I have got into a pattern of going from (fibromyalgia) flare to flare, with nothing in between. Where are the good days? They don’t happen and still having not resolved the issue of pain medication, it isn’t fun and it’s doing my head in.
Wealth? Well most of us have that issue don’t we? Especially if having to rely on government welfare. Especially having to face medical costs. I guess I find winter even harder for the wealth issue, thanks for power bills. A house that constantly leaks warm air (thanks for earthquake damage) is not helping. I seriously considered this week shifting myself entirely into just one room of the house. Impractical as it was, I was reminded of a children’s story I loved when growing up. The main character broke her back and was shifted, bed and all, into the family lounge so that she could be part of the family. Considering this for myself left me unsure whether I wanted to laugh or cry. Anyway, I didn’t do it.
And as for family? Sometimes, and more often than not right now, I feel exceptionally helpless. I can watch but can do so little. This week I have felt incredibly alone with this burden. Loving someone but not being able to make it better, hurts like hell. And it seems like when I’m not there because of my own health, their health suffers too. It’s a lonely road, and I know there are few answers that I can actually make happen. I just have to be there, and often that’s harder than anything. I guess my family had to watch me fade from their eyes for what was a very long time (thankfully I eventually came back). I think what I feel now is a little like that. Watching someone fade.
“Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins.”
— Gustave Flaubert