Oh, the relief of ridding myself of my plaster caste! At least that's the way it felt, at first, instant relief from the sticky, mankiness that had been irritating me for the last couple of weeks. In harsh reality I'd been able to use my wrist a fair bit before the caste came off. Once off my wrist was as week and feeble as imaginable, I wouldn't even risk trying to get on a bike. I even turned down getting a loan bike! There really was no way I was going to risk it so soon. Realising there was more work ahead did take away the edge of my excitement, but only a bit!
And of course, I wasn't going to be patient for long. A few days of painful exercise, forcing more movement out of my wrist, coincided with the delivery of a Suzuki 1200cc Bandit. A lot of people have commented favourably on it's looks and, assumed, powerful ride. They obviously don't know what my Triumph was like; it looked stylish, sounded great and had that peculiar quality, found in European motorcycles, character! In comparison the Suzuki looks bland, angular, boring. A potential 1200cc powerhouse, promising a superior ride? That all it is, full of promise and delivering little. Maybe I'm being harsh, though after a couple of months with no transport I'd have thought any bike would suffice: only with no other choice!
Mustn't grrrumble, I'm mobile now. Its enabled me to get out and about under my own steam, although my wrist is too week to hold the bike up properly, if really needed! So more exercise to the wrist and it can only get better. Anyone out there got any magic cures to increase mobility? Pretending there isn't a problem doesn't seem to work anymore; bugger, I've succumbed, I've become a mere mortal, vulnerable to the realities of life. No longer able to bury pain, whether physical or emotional, and continue, seemingly oblivious to the rigours of life. Of course, this is a portrayal of many people's lives.
Really it's just the stiff upper lip attitude, eh what old boy! And whatever is said, it can be a very useful character trait. Letting the pain control you is detrimental, feeling it doesn't need to be. You can, and need to, experience the pain to some extent. I can't be healthy to bury your head in the sand, neither is it to allow the pain to sweep you away. In whatever form it takes, the pain must be accepted as part of life, not the end of life! There is no point in allowing it to be your life, what a miserable existence that would be. But ignore it and the damage may never go away! At the end of the day, if you can still feel pain, you're still alive. So don't whinge about it, or be a martyr, accept it and keep living!
Recently I've opened up to families again, not a feeling I found comfortable when first coming home. It really seemed to heighten the grief already present. Seeing nice happy families when I had nothing, it sucked! Self pity is difficult to bear, maybe even harder to admit to yourself, and extremely difficult to pull yourself out of, especially when the circumstances don't change. I still feel sorry for myself, sorry I had to lose Cai, sorry to be alone; for sure, I wish I wasn't in the position I find myself in. But there isn't much I can do to change things, so the only thing to do is moving forward. So I've been spending time with more families, enjoying the buzz you can get from kids. Its opening up my heart again, it may be slow, but it is progress.
If I hadn't made that step forward I couldn't enjoy my nephews and niece, nor the hoards of kids I went camping with. So I owe thanks to all concerned for contributing to this shift forward. I'm aware these interactions do not have the depth of emotional experience I'd ultimately desire, but Rome wasn't built in a day. I still feel vulnerable, reluctant to open my heart, scared of loving and losing again. I hope this emotional journey is getting me somewhere, above all I hope to regain my full range of emotions, to again find the capacity to feel love without the associated fear.
Really it's just the stiff upper lip attitude, eh what old boy! And whatever is said, it can be a very useful character trait. Letting the pain control you is detrimental, feeling it doesn't need to be. You can, and need to, experience the pain to some extent. I can't be healthy to bury your head in the sand, neither is it to allow the pain to sweep you away. In whatever form it takes, the pain must be accepted as part of life, not the end of life! There is no point in allowing it to be your life, what a miserable existence that would be. But ignore it and the damage may never go away! At the end of the day, if you can still feel pain, you're still alive. So don't whinge about it, or be a martyr, accept it and keep living!
Recently I've opened up to families again, not a feeling I found comfortable when first coming home. It really seemed to heighten the grief already present. Seeing nice happy families when I had nothing, it sucked! Self pity is difficult to bear, maybe even harder to admit to yourself, and extremely difficult to pull yourself out of, especially when the circumstances don't change. I still feel sorry for myself, sorry I had to lose Cai, sorry to be alone; for sure, I wish I wasn't in the position I find myself in. But there isn't much I can do to change things, so the only thing to do is moving forward. So I've been spending time with more families, enjoying the buzz you can get from kids. Its opening up my heart again, it may be slow, but it is progress.
If I hadn't made that step forward I couldn't enjoy my nephews and niece, nor the hoards of kids I went camping with. So I owe thanks to all concerned for contributing to this shift forward. I'm aware these interactions do not have the depth of emotional experience I'd ultimately desire, but Rome wasn't built in a day. I still feel vulnerable, reluctant to open my heart, scared of loving and losing again. I hope this emotional journey is getting me somewhere, above all I hope to regain my full range of emotions, to again find the capacity to feel love without the associated fear.
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