[Nevertheless] I Go
I had a wonderful time out with my husband last Friday night. I really did...even though there was frustration and tears.
It used to be easy to go on a date with my husband or out with friends. Now it takes planning, rest, and the making and bringing of food that follows what is medically necessary for my health. If we go out, I get to watch others eat and drink as they please while I sip water after eating what I brought from home, that I made for myself. I get to sit in pain or stand in pain or move in pain while watching others having carefree fun. On good days it's not an issue. On not so good days it's sad and frustrating to watch other people do things I used to enjoy, knowing I'll never get to do those things again.
Living with chronic illnesses and chronic pain can feel lonely and isolating even when you're with people who care about you who are trying to include you. It can be difficult to focus on what's happening around you or on conversations when distracted by pain. And most likely none of the people you are with understand what it's like.
Trying to describe to my husband what it's like to hang out at the Cidery where everyone is enoying a vast array of hard ciders and wonderful smelling food from local restaurants when you can't drink alcohol or eat anything served locally was difficult. Having had a discussion about future tattoo plans, where he mentioned he's a bit jealous that I have so many more tattoos than him, I said it was akin to him going with me to see our tattoo artist and him sitting there watching me get a tattoo while he drew on himself with washable kids markers... and doing this every single time I got a tattoo knowing that he wouldn't ever be getting another tattoo. And having fun hanging out with me while I was doing something he couldn't and being happy that I have a tattoo to enjoy while he left with nothing.
Living with chronic illnesses and chronic pain can feel lonely and isolating even when you're with people who care about you who are trying to include you. It can be difficult to focus on what's happening around you or on conversations when distracted by pain. And most likely none of the people you are with understand what it's like.
Trying to describe to my husband what it's like to hang out at the Cidery where everyone is enoying a vast array of hard ciders and wonderful smelling food from local restaurants when you can't drink alcohol or eat anything served locally was difficult. Having had a discussion about future tattoo plans, where he mentioned he's a bit jealous that I have so many more tattoos than him, I said it was akin to him going with me to see our tattoo artist and him sitting there watching me get a tattoo while he drew on himself with washable kids markers... and doing this every single time I got a tattoo knowing that he wouldn't ever be getting another tattoo. And having fun hanging out with me while I was doing something he couldn't and being happy that I have a tattoo to enjoy while he left with nothing.
Nevertheless, I go out with my husband. I do things with friends. There is always something enjoyable about my time with those I love, even though it's never easy. I need to continue living my life, holding on to the moments of laughter and joy that balance out the disappointment and pain. I'm constantly on the lookout for restaurants that can meet my needs and things to do that are more restful than stressful on my body. And I'm trying to let go of the sadness surrounding the never-agains by finding new things to enjoy.
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