Being Broken is Exhausting

I think healing takes a lot of energy.  I KNOW crutches take a ton.  I smell like a trucker by the time I get to work.  I just need a minute here.. okay?

Art by dandude666 at Deviantart.com

Art by dandude666 at Deviantart.com

My hands hurt.  They are bruised from the crutches.  My shoulders and arms ache and the skin where my crutches rub on my inner arms is swollen and angry.  My back hurts and everything is so.. fucking.. hard.  I can’t carry a drink.  I crawl on my knees putting things a few feet out in front of me.. crawling to them.. a few feet more.. crawling to them.. and this is how I get stuff.  I eat on a stool in my kitchen next to the microwave where I nuke stuff.  My knees are raw from the very minimal crawling in my apartment.  They are red and scaly.  I put some calendula on them.

I have this kind of bone wearing fatigue.  I’m so tired.  I’m achingly tired by 1 or 2 pm.

I’m scared.  I’m scared about my money and how this will heal and what will need to happen.

I feel loved and lucky for the awesome people in my life.  I came home yesterday after breaking down TWICE in absolute frustration at the process of getting treatment.  I’m treated at the VA, and everything seems to be on the other side of the hospital and I painfully and wearily crutched to it.  X-rays.  Prosthetics to get the knee scooter they didn’t have.  Ortho to find they didn’t have my consult.  My main doc to get the consult.  Back to Ortho to find they now had the consult and would call me sometime.  Assholes.  They could have said that.  I kept promising myself I could come home and cry in my bath.  And I did.  I ran hot water, lowered most of my body into it and sobbed like a broken thing.

When I’d cried myself out Cleveland came over with a delicious meal, lovely wine, and even some snacks for me for later.  More than that, he brought his kisses, petting me and talking sweetly to me, holding me, telling me he loved me.  I lay on the floor while he cooked without the energy to even put my clothes on.  It’s very unlike me.  I lay there naked listening to him talk to me as I’d asked him to, feeling better and more human as the pain in my body eased a little with rest and his sweetness.  He was indeed a sight for sore eyes.  We watched goofy TV and snuggled and talked and played around.  We went to bed to listen to music and touch and just be.  And Cleveland being Cleveland.. he made my entire body feel better with wracking orgasms and our chemistry overtook us.  We hung out naked for a few hours playing around on our computers and joking about things.  (I wore a sheet.  I’m strangely modest).  And Cleveland got up eventually to go home and shower me off of him and crawl into his own bed.

I slept like the dead.  I got blurry talking to a cute guy from OKC that popped up.  I just ran completely out of gas and told him a gibberish sort of goodbye before falling dead asleep with my phone still in my hand.

I’m sitting at work typing this and trying to work up the energy to walk to the car.  It’s so far away.  And I’m so tired.  But it’s better than yesterday.  I don’t feel like I need to cry in my bath today.  I do still smell like a truck driver though.  I’m going to wash myself and eat my dinner and crawl a nice cold beverage to my couch.  And I’m going to watch mindless TV with my alarm set in case I wake up in the morning.  It’s better than yesterday.  Thank God.  Hopefully that’s a trend that continues.  Just a teeny bit better every day.

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