The last few weeks I’ve been recovering from surgery. It was my knee, or right below it, I suppose, so the problem has been with getting around. I’m healing well and am ahead of schedule with that. However, I get to feeling better and tell myself I’m still healing, but then I go and do something excessive anyway and re-injure myself. I’ve always struggled with this. I feel guilty if I’m not up doing things and I get irritated at my body’s limitations. Even while I sit here, I’m having sharp pains run up into my hip that I’ve been studiously trying to ignore, but they seem to be getting worse.
I have too much time to think. I think I’m the most isolated person I know. No family and no friends.. I thought my husband would be both to me. My mother died when I was young and my father was abusive. I took care of my brother, and apparently no one noticed the horror we were living. To be fair, I never told. I had no reason to trust anyone. All that’s in the past, but I see now that I’ve been trying to make a family all my life. There have only been a handful of people I’ve become close to, so when I let someone know me like that, they become my family. That would be ok with me except that people who are not blood related can leave any time. Meanwhile, the few blood relations I do have don’t know me. Tara knew me best, and she is my family, but we haven’t spoken in years, so that’s not much good. I can’t talk to her, or anyone, about the things I’m interested in or what’s on my mind. I see things all the time, even now, and think “Oh, Tara would like that…” but I can’t get it for her or tell her about it. I’ve always been a giving person.. too much so at times.
Enough.. I’m hurting and tired. I’m going to go watch a horror flick and cuddle my cats.