Real Life ... Real Feelings ... Keeping My Promise

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Real Life ... Real Feelings... Keeping My Promise I think ... when we don't feel our best it's easier to feel a little sad. Sad for people, things that ... aren't ... there anymore. Sad ... not depressed. Lately I have been ... sad ... not depressed ... a little sad Sadness of so much loss ... people, pets. This is why I have issues looking at photos ... why I don't ever have the walls full of them. The people in my photos are ... all gone. The pets in my photos are ... all gone. Material things are ... all gone. So many times .. Skip and I ... were almost all gone. Camie was almost ... all gone. Now ... after saying it all the way it really was ... is ... I feel better. This is called facing reality even ... if it hurts. Sometimes ... I have to stop, face reality because I put things back in my mind so, as not to dwell on them. I face reality lots of times in my life. This is the kind of person I am ... even when I had cancer going through such a nightmare ... doctors, nurses would ask me how I was doing, where did I hurt ... sometimes ... treatments, tests, all those needles hurt my body so bad ... whenever they asked was I okay ... I always smiled, told them I was fine ... when it was obvious I wasn't. It is just the way I am. In my mind I had to take care of business, knock obstacles out my path so, I could keep going forward. I would brace myself as I faced the pain. I've seen nurses get upset as I tried to make them feel better when they knew they were hurting me badly. I would smile with tears flowing down my face telling them it's going to be alright. For example... one nurse was trying to put the needle in my wrist to do the arterial blood gas (oh my God ... that is the most painful) ... it was hurting me so badly, tears were flowing, she couldn't get the needle where it needed to go ... I kept quietly telling her it was alright ... she began crying saying she couldn't bear to hurt me anymore ... she left to get another nurse to come do it. Thankfully, that nurse succeeded. .. she stood there to comfort me. Sometimes I forget I have medical issues unless I have a problem pop up. I don't sit, dwell on things ... if I'm sick I am trying to move forward as hard, as fast as I can to get better. I don't baby myself, I don't have that luxury. If I did have that luxury ... I feel I don't have time to be sick. I don't want to be sick, I won't be sick if possible. If I am sick ... I am still trying to do things. No need for anyone to tell me not to ... I couldn't change that if I wanted to. I don't want to change that ... why? I don't want to get trapped into sickness. I think living as a child with my Grandma Alma and my step-grandfather George affected me this way. My Grandma Alma was trapped in her paralyzed body ... George was trapped in a world of darkness... he was blind. I don't want anything to trap me. Yes, living in Hell affected me in more ways than one. The positive is once I matured, could understand so much ... I made it all work in a positive way for me. Was it easy? Hell no ... Did I learn overnight? Hell no. As I sit here, write in my imperfect way just as I draw my imperfect doodles with my imperfect self ... I find I am feeling much better. When I write I have my outlet for pain, grief, feelings from the very real life I live. As my fingers type my words stress is released through every keystroke. Like water flowing under a bridge ... it flows away from me. I have through the years been keeping my promise to write my grief, pain, real life. As I keep that promise it helps me ... I always hope in the back of my mind that somehow something I say could make a positive difference to someone. I know when I read the words anyone writes I am always paying attention so as to get inspiration, motivation, encouragement. I am always happy to learn from others. It means the world to me. These are my real feelings ... no sugar-coating whatsoever. Real life ... real f feelings. .. keeping my promise. Note: I am sharing this from my writing site: myLot.com. Written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates.