Being a Real Girl

At 30 years old, quality of life issues have become central for me. I have trouble leaving the house. I see my immediately family and close friends rarely more than once a week and I am usually in pain and irritable during visits. Sometimes I can't feed myself, or hold a conversation, even quietly. These limitations are harder on me than the pain. Being with my family painlessly, the freedom to go for a walk to the library, having a job, these are all things that have been very important to me and they are all things of the past. I am learning to accept it. I can't change it, so I have to adapt to survive.

Recently, hobbies have been keeping me feeling like a real person. Container gardening in my south-facing bay window and knitting have been keeping me productive. Even in my worst hazes of pain, I can manage to water once a day and knitting is surprisingly easy, even when I can't think and can barely open my eyes.

When I wake up with a headache, miserable and angry, I can't help but lighten up when I see new tomato sproutings. And feeling depressed about being so non-productive is pointless when I have a small pile of knitted squares to prove I have been doing something. Perspective is everything.