Monday's typically get a bad rep and simply because they're the abrupt end to the alluring weekend and the forceful head-first jolt into the daily grind of everyday life. The headaches, the hassles, the hurdles, the hotflashes, the hyperventilating, the hives, the hustle, the "hot-damn will I make it out of this alive," minute by minute, hour by hour, existences that some of us face every waking hour, because our circumstances are daunting. Today, I had a Monday. One major mother load Monday.
Right now we are by default a one car family because by aforementioned daunting circumstances. This week, I have six doctor's appointments. Two of those appointments will be doozies. Three of those appointments will require someone to accompany me. This morning I thought to myself, "no problem, this is just physical therapy...I got this one in the bag." As us blessed with EDS are, sleep does not come easy, when 5:30 am rolled around and I had not fallen asleep, my body was unable to metabolize any sleeping aid or anything for pain, you could say I was frustrated. When my alarm sounded at 8 am I was less than thrilled. I delayed until 9 am because I no longer care so much about my public appearance.
I got up, I showered, I conquered eating applesauce and I called Lyft to take me 2.5-3 miles to my appointment. When I arrived and my fare was close to ten dollars including tip I knew I would have to walk home because #budget. As I walked home, I first was okay. I was aware of where I was and didn't think I was too far from home. As my route continued and my "paintbrush" aka my broken, disheveled body began to subluxate at every major joint I began to get angry. I should mention I'm not familiar with the emotion of anger. It is only in this past year as I've watched people turn their backs and never return, witness my body betray me in ways I never thought possible, and come to turns that the dreams I had for my life will never be realized did I experience feelings of anger that quickly would turn to overwhelming sadness. As I walked, or trudged, quite honestly I have no idea what I look like from an outsider's perspective when I try and move, but I lamented. I cried and whispered hushed yells to the sky.
DO.YOU.SEE.ME? WHEN.WILL.THIS.BE.OVER? IS.IT.FUNNY? I.DONT'T.GET.IT? I.CAN'T.MAKE.THIS.BEAUTIFUL. I'M.HURTING. pleeeeaaaassssseeeeeee. just tears......................and sobs. carry me. STOP.THE.BLEEDING. (streams of tears, gulps of air)
deep breath, deep breath.
Luckily, by the time Nate looked on his phone and could see that I was walking miles from our house and texted me to find out what was going on and I fessed up to my grand scheme to not ask for help and save money and he being the hero that he is drove during his lunch hour to pick me up and drive me home(....mind you I only had a quarter mile to go- thank you very much), my tears had dried up and he found me doing my usual odd Kato like thing, leaning in a weird way, trying to capture a photo of a flower with my phone but not get any bit of my body shadow in the frame at all. However, when we arrived back at our cottage and I collapsed on the couch, the well had not run completely dry. As we sat there and I had no words as to "what was wrong," because the answer to that seems to quite honestly be everything, all I could say through streams of steamy tears was that there were just too many mountains to climb. Nate stretched out his arm in front of him and agreed, "Yes, there are millions of Mt. Everests as far as the eye can see."
And it is now that I am reminded of the song, "Even If," by Mercy Me. It's easy to sing and laugh and be filled with joy when things are good. But what about when they are not? What then? When I'm held to the flame? What is it that I will say? I know that God has allowed me to endure so that I am able to encourage others when they are broken because I am oh so familiar with pain. And those mountains? I know I don't have to carry them. I can lay them down and ask him to move them. But, here is where the rubber meets the road. Not all mountains will be moved. Not all prayers will be answered "yes." So many in our past years have been answered, "No." So, today I'm on my knees and I'm asking God to help me sing it is well with my soul in the midst of the unmovable, in the hours of the answers we never wanted to hear, and even the prayers we never thought we'd have to pray. I know He sees me. I know He knows I hurt. But I know He also wants me to keep singing.
They say sometimes you win some
Sometimes you lose some
And right now, right now I'm losing bad
I've stood on this stage night after night
Reminding the broken it'll be alright
But right now, oh right now I just can't
It's easy to sing
When there's nothing to bring me down
But what will I say
When I'm held to the flame
Like I am right now
I know You're able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don't
My hope is You alone
They say it only takes a little faith
To move a mountain
Well good thing
A little faith is all I have, right now
But God, when You choose
To leave mountains unmovable
Oh give me the strength to be able to sing
It is well with my soul
I know You're able and I know You can