September 26, 2021
I woke up this morning to the grey light pouring in, covering me in Pacific Northwest glum, anticipating another day with Pain. Still lying in bed, blinking as I stared at the grey light, I began pulling in all the effort I require to push through another day. To make it through another day. That’s the victory in every day. To lay down that night and know I conquered death.
Pain was still with me, curled up against me, wrapping me in her deceptively warm soft arms. Her arms are long, they wrap around me and wrap around me like a boa wraps around its prey. And sometimes, to be held so closely by her feels the most natural, comfortable, familiar feeling. And I like it. I really like it. I rest fully in it. I closed my eyes and surrendered fully to Pain. It was the most peaceful feeling. I almost fell back asleep in her embrace, giving into all the ugliness that lives inside. It was so easy. It would have been so easy.
As I laid safe in her embrace, I wondered if Pain was so much a part of me I didn’t know who I was without her. That realization terrified me and I flushed with adrenaline. My eyes flew open wide and I came fully awake.
I forcefully broke free from Pain’s dark cold slimy coils and threw my legs over the side of the bed, planted myself firmly on the ground, got up, boldly walked out of my room, and began my descent into my new day. Every day is a new day, a day without the possibility of Pain.
Three very fat cats pattered down the stairs ahead, thrilled their breakfast was finally just moments away. I smiled, watching their little bellies swing side to side.
I imagined that first sip of my morning cup of Starbucks. I realized I’d get to drink it out of my favorite mug! Mom finally ran the dishwasher last night. She doesn’t run it very often. She doesn’t run it until it’s so full we’ve run out of forks. Which is annoying as hell. Every time that happens, I go online and buy more forks. But it still happens.
I giggled as I remembered buying that mug. I bought it when I was with my close friend Terri on my Louisville vacation, from my favorite quirky little shop in Jeffersonville, Indiana. There was a Freda Kahlo mug I had my eye on, but then I saw Janis Joplin. I picked Janis. No question. I picked Janis. It was a wonderful day.
I fed the cats, then ran the Keurig through the Starbucks pod into the Janis mug. I poured in some half and half, then took that first magical sip. I burst with happy. I held the warm Janis mug with both hands, close to my lips. I sipped and sipped as I watched the cats gobble their food. And I burst with happy.
“Where is Pain?” I wondered.
She was likely still sleeping upstairs. She was probably exhausted. Pain works as diligently and tirelessly to own me as I work diligently and tirelessly to untangle her ugly hold on my soul.
I remembered how Pain is repulsed by happiness, so I smiled and laughed. And laughed. Out loud. And laughed more from hearing myself laugh. It felt so good to laugh.
“Pain is such a colossal cunt. I could so live without that bitch!” I said, out loud, as I laughed some more.
“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.” -Janis Joplin
