The sky was falling. It was a week of high hopes dashed against the rocks in sudden squalls. Throwing eggs at the hens. Holding my breath as waves crashed in spurts. Oft staying in bed is the best way to deal with the days, when they roll, one after the other, like this.
Sure, there was some good news. My car checked out okay at the garage. I heard from Eldest after four months. I shall refer to him as Rogue 1 from this point on, as the title seems most fitting. Not rogue as in bad, but rogue as in "off on his own." Nothing negative intended by the change in moniker.
My puppy ended up at the vet with a corneal abrasion. It's been pretty tough to put her in the cone to keep her from scratching. This is the first time I've ever used a dog cone and it's a helpless and frustrating feeling to see puppy with this strange thingy wrapped around her neck. It's scary for her and painful. The vet did give her pain pills which has allowed her to remain calm and sleep much, escaping her waking misery.
I've noticed the similarities in puppy's situation and my own. Since she has been injured, life has stopped for her. Her every waking moment revolves around healing from her injury. Nothing is as it was, for her. She's not normal, not able to play and do what she wants...she waits to heal. Her entire day is spent healing. Her life is altered, a pinpoint focus, right now. I get that. There isn't anything about my waking life that is average, playful, carefree or about doing what I want to do.
I'm wounded...damaged, seriously impacted by what's been criminally, viciously done to me. I live each day just healing. I've been wondering how much of my damage can even be healed or...maybe I should just accept this limping, bleeding half life.
Another note..
Since becoming aware of the egregious malfeasance inflicted upon me, in my last relationship due to my naive and gullible nature, I'm hesitate to enter into any type of intimate relationship, as I fear I am nothing but bait and a target whereby someone will come along, play nice, and misuse me as before. It's hard to have an ounce of trust when you've been quietly pounded into submission and nonexistence day after day after day after year after year after year. Yeah, still feeling pretty trashed and beaten.
Therapy is going okay. It's nice to have one hour a week in which someone gives a shit and isn't trying to trick or use me.
So the week is done. Good riddance.
Hopes run on a significantly lower level, when they run at all.
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