Fuck my broken toe. Fuck my infected cyst, painful and worrying before knowing what it was. Fuck the rash accompanying antibiotics that shouldn't have triggered allergies, but did. Up and down arms, itching like crazy and unsightly in the summertime. Nevermind the rashes dotting my body because the bruises mottling my legs are scary enough. Fuck scratching my large toe and forming an infection on there as well. Fuck my period and my stomach issues, everything combining at once. This body rebels against me! For fuck's sake
I kicked the wall last night accidentally, turning the corner too quickly and slamming my baby toe into the door jamb. The pain overwhelmed so I hopped up and down, a jude dancing between my feet thinking this show a funny prelude to bedtime. But my toe stuck out scarily, 90 degrees out from my foot. I felt faint as blood rushed through me, shaking as I hobbled to bed, worried he would request the longest books and I wouldn't make it through them. We sped through the shortest bedtime stories possible, surprised he didn't hear the nerves in my voice and the shaking through my body as he settled quietly. When the door closed behind me the sobs escaped and I made it to the phone before collapsing in tears on the couch. Of course I'm alone and pissed/freaked/scared. Now I've really done it. When I broke it last month, a fracture I assumed, i was careful but didn't worry much. But now as it sticks out sideways from my foot, knowing I've really broken it badly, that my vacation will suck ass hobbling around carefully, that i won't be able to run after my boy at the cottage and jump in the lake. That our moving things around and other stresses will suffer from me not being able to do as much as I want. And it hurts! And he will jump on it and touch it and otherwise make it difficult to avoid hurting it again. My poor toe...
I've been working on breathing these last few difficult weeks. On allowing stresses to wash through me and not to overwhelm, to take on only as much as I can handle and let the rest fall off. Every time I feel angry as things don't develop the way I want I step back. Breathe. Remind myself that it's ok and not to let my bad mood permeate everything else. Not to let my bad mood take hold at all.
This universe is testing my resolve to improve my stress and anger. Every time i successfully make it through another train trip, another argument, another hiccup in our minutely planned out schedule I am thrown more. More to test me, more to breathe through and accept. Push, push. Accept. Relax. I can do this. I can make it through you fucking up my summer and my body. Crying helps. As do brief moments of rest, moments to myself. Reflection. Easy summer days. Relax.
