Sunday, May 27, 2012

1000 paper cuts

Several weeks ago the television was on in the bedroom. It was a baseball there anything else on? I wasn't really watching, but I heard the commentator say something about death by a thousand paper cuts. I didn't meditate on the comment, but I did file it away.

The last two weeks can easily be explained in such a way. My life is not hard. I am not in want of any material possession. I am healthy, I am employed. I have money for appointments with my therapist and movies with friends. My children are bright, my husband is helpful.

Yet I have struggled so lately. I have had hard nights of sleep. Weird dreams. The drama I wrote about at work awhile ago is ongoing. Two women aren't speaking to me at all. While I have learned from that situation, it still hurts. It seems that there is a power struggle and I am doing my best to stay out of it. I wish I had talked about it less and am learning that I need not tell details to more than my sponsor or my husband.

A friendship is in the rebuilding stages and I want it to move faster. I feel like things are good, going well, then something will be said and I question my part. We went to the movies on Friday and it was easy and enjoyable. Yet earlier in the week as we stood near each other in the hallway it seemed as if a boulder lay between us.

My obligations at work have changed and I am really wondering what part the earlier drama has played into it. The reasoning being verbalized appears to make sense, but on second thought it is a flimsy excuse to change the game that is going on. I feel useless and unneeded and my pride is hurting.

My son has twice pooped his pants at school. He is eight. What the heck? I have toyed with calling the doctor, but I really think he is being lazy, not that he has a lazy sphincter. So now each morning before we leave the house I am telling him to sit on the throne awhile.

I am trying to figure out what it means. What should I be learning from all these minor irritations that seem to be piling up and up. Why the subtle attacks on my peace of mind, my sense of worth and value, my ability to function in life?

And to top it off, Friday afternoon as I was covering a class I noticed about 12 paper cuts on the tip of my pointer finger. Seriously. And I have no idea when I got them, what I was doing. Yet, the irony is not lost on me. Friday the cuts were many and sore. And today they are hard to see, the healing is taking place almost before my eyes.

So while my laundry list of complaints seems to overwhelm at this moment, I know that as I continue to wake up each day, they will disappear. To be replaced with new skin, healthy minutes, and yes other irritations. Because life will go on.

and there IS hope~

1 comment:

Sarah Knapp said...

Wow, a thousand papercuts. I totally get that. It's never just one big thing but a million little things. I love you. And I am glad you can write to get things out, sometimes that's all I need is to just put it out of my brain and onto paper (or screen) to be able to breathe easier. I love you. I love you. :-)