“I’m not angry, either. I should be, but I’m not. I just feel pain. A lot of pain. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt, but I was wrong.”
― Haruki Murakami
You may have noticed things have been a little too quiet at this Tower. Just about now I would likely be writing an apology to you, for my absence, disappearance, setback, and distinct lack of royal presence. Offer you an explanation for the rolling tumbleweed-like nature of this royal abode’s offerings…
Do what so many of us who live with complex chronic illness and relentless chronic pain do when things go wrong, and the pain flares viciously—apologise.
Say that we’re sorry for [insert pain/symptom caused catastrophe here] even though we know these things are so far from our fault. Though in light of a recent post on the Tower’s Facebook page inspired by another by Life in Slow Motion, which advocates the opposite of just that (shared below), will stay stum.
Save to say sorry in a more sentient sense, as each night have longed for this setback to simmer a little, for the dystonic limbs, and pain to loosen in their grip, so that I could use my hands again, think again, leave the bed again, and write again unhampered by the capricious whims of dictation software, nor capricious whims of CRPS.
Most of all, continue creating things I hope bring you comfort, support, and ease some of the pain, and catch up, reconnect, and reply to your heartfelt messages, and comments, on Facebook and Twitter, but since mid-NERVEmber, it hasn’t simmered one bit.
As with every complex and chronically painful condition when it flares-up, life is stripped to its barest bones, only the most essential acts to get through it. So perhaps saddened is a better word. Though even in the greatest pain, and most debilitated state, always try to keep Facebook and Twitter as filled as princessely possible, and I hope comfort anyway.
So instead of saying sorry, sharing this apt and popular post from the Facebook community page that resonated with so many:
There’s a post in progress I’ll press the instant I can so hoping it’s more hiccup than hiatus. The CRPS is just being a little bit too vicious at the moment so just trying to get through it. Wishing you far kinder days in number, comfort, and support too. Gentle hugs x