Chronic Condition
Acute pain I can stand,
It is the chronic pain that drives me mad.
The day after day gnawing
Wastes away my arm,
Chews up my patience,
Nibbles at my soul.
Like water wearing away stone
It wears me out,
Wears me down.
The constant irritation exhausts me,
Leaves me constantly irritable.
My body tells me,
Each day speaking a little louder,
That I must change.
It nags me to sleep more,
It rebels at my working habits,
It pesters me when I drive.
It demands so much time and energy to care for it,
As though I could make up for all the years of neglect.
My heart tells me,
Each day crying a little louder,
That I must change.
It mourns the many years I have wasted,
It urges me to speak,
It says this life was not meant for me,
As though I could change the past,
As though I could make up for the mistakes.
My mind screams above the din.
It says I cannot afford to follow the path my heart would take.
It says I do not have time to rest or sleep.
It says I do not have time or money to do what I love.
It says I dare not risk admitting that I love.
Acute pain I can stand,
It is the chronic pain that drives me mad.
The day after day longing,
Wastes away my hours,
Chews up my reason,
Nibbles at my soul.
Like water wearing away stone...
Perhaps it carves me into a sculpture.
Perhaps it is fire to burn away the dross.
Perhaps it will destroy me.
Water dripping from the faucet
Annoys, keeps one awake at night,
Wastes water.
Yet the dripping may keep pipes from freezing,
from bursting.
(Is not my heart always in danger of freezing?
Or is it in danger of bursting from the pain?)
Water on the forehead may be torture,
Yet water on the brow may be baptism,
Life-giving sign—
But also sign of death.
Acute pain I can stand,
It is the chronic pain that drives me mad.
The day after day thinking of you;
The drip, drip of second-guessing what I have said,
but especially what I have left unsaid;
The day after day after endless day wishing to be near you;
The day after day praying for you,
That you may never endure such pain;
The daily knowledge that you already suffer,
And that there is nothing I can do about it—
That is what makes chronic pain so difficult to endure:
The frustration of not comprehending it,
The inability to overcome it.
I have long favored my mind at the expense of my body.
Now my reason wars with my body and soul—
My whole being pays the price.
My mind mutinies, provides no assistance:
I do not know how to escape this trap of my life,
I do not know how to silence the voices.
I do not know how to stop the dripping water,
the gnawing pain.
I do not know how to help myself—
How can I be audacious enough to care for someone else?
Yet if I knew how to cease concern for you
My own pain would dissolve,
Or at least be bearable.
Well, that's what my mind says;
My heart says it is only by caring that I can find relief
For myself or for you.
My body says only that it hurts.
Acute pain I can stand,
It is the chronic pain that drives me mad.
The day after day longing
Wastes away my life,
Chews up my hours,
Nibbles at my soul.
Like water wearing away stone
My tears wear away my heart.
Inflammation
I'd hoped I'd be spared this
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