Sunday, March 12, 2006

Wellness Junkie

Depression, depression, depression, depression, depression.

I am on my way out to increase my running distance from four miles to five miles. Exercise is so important to me in my dealiings with my grief. My problem today is a combination of grief and PMS. I have experienced a definite pattern concerning the two, I simply cannot sit still during PMS without crying and without putting myself through the horrors of Chris’ cancer over and over until I find myself twisting about and contorting my brain trying to dodge the thoughts and memories of his illness. Running takes it all away. Singing takes it all away. So I run and sing as much as I can in my quest for forward movement.

I am coming to believe that Chris will not be angry with me for moving forward. That’s progress.

I still wish he was here with me. I’m not sure whether I will always wish that for the rest of eternity or whether my life will take over and place that book on the shelf. Time and tears will tell.

My therapist is so valuable to me. My weekly session with him is my anchor point. I go there every week and power-up from his support and when I leave his office, I am good for a few days before I begin the countdown to my next power-up session with him. I suppose I have developed a bit of an addiction, but there are worse things in life to which a person can be addicted. Some take to the alley and jab needles in their arms. Some take to the curb with a bottle of booze or their poison of choice. My poison is actually an antedote. I’m addicted to learning about my grievous condition and molding it into something I can work with and something I can live with, something from which I can move on. I suppose I am a wellness junkie.

Only five more days until my next fix. Until then, I will take to the streets, my iPod in tow on my right arm and my Nike airs cushioning the concrete that regularly breaks my fall with a painful SLAM. Still, things could be worse. I am thankful that I land on the cement and not on a bed of nails. How’s that for optimism?

Shneed

PS - Hey Bonnie, I'll call you later on today. I love you. -Shneed

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