October 17, 2013

Exhausting


I know I complain about the pain often here, but I rarely mention it to the outside world. Part of me wants everyone to know that while they're worried about some nonsense and chit-chatting the time away in a meeting, I am screaming in agony in my head. "Just shut up and do what we need to so I can get up and move around!" has passed through my mind over a million times.

Because most of me just wants to be normal, even though I'm decidedly not. The pain affects my work performance. It affects how clearly I can think about something else, how quickly I can recall facts not pain-related, and how enthusiastic about the other stuff going on that I'm perceived to be. I know I'm judged if the inflection in my voice isn't just right. And lately, it rarely is.

It really hit me the other day when someone whom I work with, who has rheumatoid arthritis, was accused of being the dreaded corporate-speak "disengaged" after the meeting. I stepped in to say, "Please do not mistake pain for disengagement." Because I saw that look in her eyes - the one of impatience and fear that the meeting was going to go on too long and she wasn't going to be able to take it. The arms that didn't reach out to grab the papers passed around, but allowed someone to hand them to her. And the tired look in her skin.

While I don't hide that I have arthritis, I hardly ever truly explain it to people. I'm never quite sure how I can do it justice without sounding as if I'm asking for their pity? And even when people do know and ask, if they have no frame of reference to compare it to, how do I make sense of it for them?

Lately, this hip has been awful. The pain so bad that it makes me nauseous. I cannot sit, stand, or sleep without thinking about it. Concentrating on something other than the pain is exhausting. And the pain is exhausting. So I am more than exhausted.

What's the point of all this? I don't know. I just know I hurt. And I'm tired. And I just want to stop pretending like it is all okay.

1 comment:

Mary Z said...

Very gentle, but enveloping hugs! I wish I could make it go away for you.