In
which our Heroine tries to be Happy with her Lot in Life.
Speaking of split worlds, I also live in a place of both
discontent and gratitude. Yes, you can
have totally conflicting emotions all at the same time and even for days on
end, if you are me. Lately, I am feeling
a confusing combination of invalidation in life and yet gratitude for that life.
It is not news: one of the best ways to beat hardship and the
accompanying anger and depression is with gratitude. For
instance, while I was stewing away in my doctor’s waiting room that horrible
Monday, I was dually aware of how blessed I have been in my recovery. Every time I go, I fill out the medications
and physician information sheet. It
consists of fifteen or so lines for medications, and three areas for your other
doctors. I wrote my ridiculously low
dosage of ”500 mg 2/day” next to my one-liner “Keppra,” and felt a little
better about my lot in life.
My lack of emotional maturity was next brought to bear
against the 20 or so patients who came and went while I sat there—every single
one of them looking worse than me. After
all, my scars are all hidden underneath what the world of teen fiction might
call a ravishingly thick head of wavy hair.
I do not use a wheelchair, nor do I limp. My hands are weak, but I can still use
them. I am not grossly overweight, or
even cancerously underweight. My
medicine makes me a little crazy sometimes (illogical, irrational, easily irritated),
but on the whole I am in control and very happy. My wonderful husband and daughter were there with
me (no babysitter, and by the way I need a chauffeur now)—I was not alone that
day, nor have I ever been bereft of support.
These things are the truths of my life, all laid out in that
one waiting room experience. But more
than that, God has given me some truly wonderful tender mercies lately. First, I have had a lot of opportunities for
service in both church and community.
When you have limited time, it is nice to know that you are doing something
worthwhile with it. It is amazing how
much energy you can get just from doing something for someone else. And I can’t help but love it when someone
acknowledges that service. One
particularly hard day, I began to feel like I’d made myself physically ill
(quite literally) for nothing as I overheard someone else claim credit for
something I’d spent hours preparing
for—albeit while quietly at home and for weeks in preparation rather than at
the actual date of the event. I turned
around and bitterly walked away from the situation. Not two seconds later, someone interrupted my
moping to express gratitude for something else.
Perfect timing—I really needed to hear that right then. A few days later, I received a surprise thank-you
card from a friend for teaching a Relief Society lesson at church—also great
timing. Caring surprise phone calls,
cuddling with my child, successful gardening ventures, or my husband bringing
home dinner and doing the dishes while he laughs with me about something—I have
felt the reaffirmation that my life is full, though I am simultaneously aware
that it really only consists of 1/2 to 2/3 the amount of livable time for which I long.
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