Phoenix Rising

I have to admit that I copped out last week on the posts. I caught some grief about the cat pictures, a lazy post indeed. I will explain: I have fibromyalgia. Sometimes it flairs up and I don't have much energy to do more than I absolutely have to. The last few weeks have been especially difficult because I have two friends who are grieving the loss of a spouse, and I feel helpless. (Emotional stress can cause fibro flare-ups.)


This helplessness is especially difficult because I have been in that same bat-shit crazy, curl up on the couch, shut the-door, don't answer the phone, leave me alone, don't want to face the world place. In fact, I stayed there for a very long time. No one told me it would get better, but it did. It took a long time, and I know that my friends will have to endure all sorts of emotional turmoil and work through it in their own ways. But I want to help, even though, right now, they can't accept my help. 


It's a strange thing: when you hurt that badly and someone is kind to you, you cry. I suppose it's because you're so down that you don't feel like you deserve kindness. It hurts. Grief swallows you whole, immerses you in darkness, and the slightest ray of light is painful. It reminds you of how life was. You don't believe life will get better. And it doesn't. Instead, you change. You grow. You learn a new way of living. It's not what you had before, but you build a new life. I'm building one now. You, dear readers, are my witnesses. From ashes rises the Phoenix. I have no wings yet, but I feel the itch in my back where they're trying to poke through.