I'm so frustrated right now.
So filled with angst, guilt, anger, wistfulness, worry, etc.
I hurt. The steroid shot in my back hurts so bad I can barely move, barely breathe, barely hold still.
The pain consumes me.
And yet there are people in Paris right this second who are feeling more pain, more fear than I will ever, goddess willing, feel in a life time.
Survivors of the bombings and terrorist shootings, hostages of these terrorists (regardless of their color, creed, religion, or race I will still consider them terrorists) are living in a Hell I cannot imagine.
People of Color all over the planet live with more strife day to day than I can process in my tiny world view.
Women and men of all ethnicities have not only been through, but have survived, more abuse at the hands of strangers and loved ones than is conceivable for me.
And here I sit, filled with futile self-anger, guilt, frustration because my pain keeps me from functioning.
I know people personally who push through more pain than I feel.
Why can't I push through?
I disgust myself.
And because I disgust myself, I become more angry at myself.
Comparing my situation to what others are going through does not legitimize my pain any more.
It actually takes away from what they have and are and will experience.
Their trials and tribulations are not about me. I can never compare to them.
And so I am helpless and angry.
I want so much to just jump out of bed and persevere but when I do, the pain rips through me and I'm on my knees; gasping, crying, and hating myself all over again...
...wondering where all my strength and courage went.