-Barenaked Ladies
Wisdom Teeth. So glad I only have 2. Or had, I suppose. They are no longer mine or with me. In their stead are holes, swelling, and a whole lot of pain.
I am incredibly pale- I lost a lot of blood this morning when they took the IV out. They took part of the tube off and didnt close the part attached to my arm, letting blood flow out of my arm, down to my hand and fingers and all over the floor. Thats what I woke up to and I've been dizzy all day.
I am getting the feeling in my face back (I was numb all the way to my ear) and can finally drink without making a mess. The downside is that with the numbness gone, the pain can take over and do its worst. My swelling isnt as bad as I've seen in other people after they get their wisdom teeth pulled out of their head. I hope it stays this way. I hear day 2 and 3 are the worst.
2 more hours until I get more pain medicine. I hope I last that long. I had to put my ice packs back in the freezer a little while ago and without them, the pain gets much worse. Its nothing to cry over, though, and nothing I cant deal with.
On my own. By myself.
"Men are bad"
-My favorite young women president on the planet, Val Hatch
This is a lesson, learned over a year ago I had apparently forgotten. Well. I will not be forgetting this lesson again any time soon. I have learned to listen to those who love me, trust those who see what I cannot, ask for help from those who know what I need.
Down time allows too much to be thought. Thought of the things undone, the things unsaid; The things tears were shed for, the hurt that cant be healed; The things that were betrayal, the trust that will always be broken. Thoughts of where to go from here.
When I started this blog, I wrote for myself. I still write for myself. To myself. I read a small paragraph of my blog to my sister the other day. She didnt understand what I read to her, but she wanted to hear more. Someday, when she struggles, she will read and understand.
The poetry that has come from Me in different parts of my blog is the poet that I've always wanted to be- only better. Because I write for Myself. The sadness that flows through what I write heals me. Its my way of dealing. Especially when there is no one else.
I wish I had a friend to talk to on the phone. Today has been lonely. I suppose part of healing is hurting though. Hurting always leads to healing eventually. Directly or indirectly. We hurt until we decide to heal, or we heal and decide to go through the hurt.
Things are looking up from here. I came to that realization last night after a talk with my bishop. Theres nothing like laying down what you want to leave behind and being told that you can do it, that you have a better person to become. Better than what you were, and better than you could have become on your own. No better feeling in the world. I know that my Redeemer lives.
Everything will be ok.
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