Struggle/Surrender

So I’m finding myself angry again.
The kind of angry where you talk to and fight with yourself.
The kind of angry that churns inside and you can feel it roll around.
The kind of angry that burns the back of your throat and all of your good thoughts too.
The boils are gone, the blood blister bruise nightmare has faded as well.
I’m feeling better everyday and not least of all, I am disease free!
So, what is the problem?
I can focus on the negatives and say … ” I’m fat” ” I’m bald” ” No one has come by to visit except my mother”
Really, where is everyone?
I’ve gone through the roughest, hardest, biggest thing in my life and nobody has come to say hi, glad you’re home, nada.
Weird.
So I look ahead at the days and weeks and months I’ll need to fill and wonder how.
What to do? What do I want to do?
I’m still reading the Bible looking for promises and proclamations but I’m in the Old Testament and God is pretty pissed most of the time.
I mean really pissed! There is much disease, drought, destruction, death.
I can relate. But, it’s not the warm and fuzzy I am looking for.
So I had a dream of a store and its come and gone.
Where do new dreams come from?
I am disease free but on a very short leash for the next three months to a year.
How much I’ll recover is a big unknown.
I’d like it to be a given, like Christmas. No need to beg or pray, on the 25th of
December its coming, like it or not… Ready or not.
I’d like that for my recovery instead of hearing ” getting better is your job now, focus on your healing, nothing else matters right now”
Really?
I cannot imagine I’ve gone through all of this to live crippled and dependent.
Living on my sofa unable to work is not my idea of a good time.
Where do I get a new dream?
When I look, all I see are my limitations.
I get this is a problem but how to solve it when I am in reality disabled and unable to work.
I have never been negative by nature.
I am always the glass half full ( makes room for more)!
I am always happy and grateful!!!! What happened???
If I could go to a dream store and shop, what would I pick?
What would I have to have? What is it that I just couldn’t live without?
What would I yearn for?
What would I grin and giggle over once I had it?
I know dreams die in my head. But, where are they born?
I just watched Oprah interview a guy who made a movie, it got 100 million views on YouTube and within a week he goes from celebrating with champagne to a manic breakdown on the streets of San Diego. Some dreams become nightmares.
Some nightmares can give way to a dream.
So, I see how being rich and famous would make it harder to keep yourself from becoming an egomaniac and staying humble would be a challenge.
But being home and sick?
Humble, I still fight against…yes, still.
I’m all ego because I feel like its all about me, all the time.
My recovery, doctor visits, doctors orders… Blah, blah, blah.
Ego/humility. Dream/nightmare.
Military people sign up and get blown up.
They are no less brave because of missing parts.
Women have and lose babies.
Husbands die, so do wives.
A boob job doesn’t protect you from breast cancer.
Nor does losing your boobs make you less of a woman.
In fact all of it makes you more of a warrior.
There is strength in the scars.
Love/loss. Praise/plead.
Struggle/surrender.
So did my bag of dreams spill somewhere along the way? Why can’t I conjure one up?
If there is a dream machine, is mine broken?
It is baffling to me to have the ” reset” button pushed on my life and now I’m a blank. Literally blank.I have no idea what to do.I have no idea what to dream. I have no plans or prospects.
I’m like an etch a sketch that’s been shaken and now my picture is gone.
Blessing/curse.

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