A Wonderful, Satirical Poem

"A Little Fun with Acceptance" is a marvelous, satirical poem about - you got it - accepting our disorder.

Written by Will Meecham, MD, MA over at Bipolar Advantage, Looking at the Positive Side of Disorder, brings to light all the negative emotions we deal with on a daily basis.  There are some in there that I wasn't even aware I'm trying to cope with!

Take a look.  It's worth it.

The Storm

 A storm blew in last night
gusting gales of rage
I couldn't stand against
With lightning strikes of despair
and a deluge of pain so strong
it was agony
I screamed and screamed
while no one was home
until the worst of the storm was over
Then the gentle patter of tears began
and hasn't stopped yet
I hate to cry but I know I'm safe
from taking my life
as long as I can puke out the pain
and not bottle it all up
No one can help me, not even
others weathering the storm
All anyone can say is "hang on,
you'll make it through it"
Maybe.

Is Life Too Short or Too Long?

Life is either too long or too short, depending on whether I'm suicidal or not.  Right now life's too short, a belief only confirmed by my latest trip to my GP.  I'd gone to see her about hip pain I've been having.  I suspected it's Old Arthur.

 Arthritis runs in my family.  My younger older brother (the middle child) turned 60 last Monday and has arthritis so bad that he's already had both hips replaced.  He's got it all through his spine, too.  My older older brother just called my Dad to ask if we have rheumatoid arthritis in our family.  No, we don't, Jack, you've simply got a bad case of osteo, just like Chris and me. I can feel it in my bones (groan - OK, baaaaad pun!).

I've had pretty painful osteoarthritis in my middle back for a few years already and now I've been told it's "moderate to severe" in my lumbar & sacral spine as well.  Plus I have it in both hips though it's worse on the right. I've got those little bone spurs that are so painful.  Yep, it's Old Arthur.

I've been on an anti-inflammatory for over a year now but the disease seems to be progressing swiftly nonetheless.  Thank God for Percoset.  (And what's weird about the Percoset is that I feel much more energetic after I've taken one...and a nice high to boot.  Go figure.)

What's so troubling about this latest diagnosis isn't the pain and stiffness, or even the possibility of joint replacement surgery down the road.  I fear the loss of a life's dream, of having to strike an entry from my Bucket List because it has become impossible.  It's a very small item in the grand scheme of things but it's the most important of them all:  own and ride a horse of my own again.

I practically grew up on the back of a horse (good old Rusty - God I miss him) but I haven't had one since I left home at 16.  Now I'm 47 - that's a long time to wait for a dream to come true.  I don't know what I'd do if that dream became an impossibility.  Sometimes that dream (and the freedom it represents, to just hop on and GO) is all that keeps me going. 

I can't have a horse yet.  We don't have enough flat acreage, nor do we have enough money for proper care.  Not to mention the money to buy what I want:  a Rocky Mountain horse.  And we don't have enough income to even be saving for a down payment on another place.  We just have to keep paying down our mortgage until we can sell the property and get enough cash from the sale to use as a down payment on another place.  That'll take years - years I'm not sure I have left (for my dream, not for my life). 

Yeah, right now life's too short.