McAllister
New Member
This is a pretty angry post, so please be warned.
Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of when my foot pain started. I was standing barefoot on a hard kitchen floor baking a cake and noticed a twinge. Since then, I can’t stand for more than about 5–10 minutes without my foot aching, burning, or feeling like the bones are going to shatter or puncture through the skin. I’ve been to the podiatrist numerous times. He has no clue. Chiropractor, regular doctor, a month of physical therapy. Nothing.
Then in December my butt started hurting the same way. Painful to sit. Feels like the bones are hitting the hard chair and the nerves are on fire. My legs burn and feet hurt when I sit. So there’s no comfortable position. All the nerves in my lower body are pissed off.
I am pissed too. I’m also really weary of life in general. I don’t suffer well. Because of the pain, my life is completely devoid of joy. I don’t enjoy anything anymore, don’t look forward to anything, and everything is just a chore. I’ve got a zillion hobbies, which I still pursue, but they don’t make me happy. I ride my bike, go for walks and take pictures (walking feels a lot better than standing), I bake, I see friends, I create art… but I have to drag myself. I’d just stay in bed for a week if I could, and it wouldn’t make me feel any better either. I don’t want to see anyone or do anything (but I keep on). There were things I wanted to do. I was going to spend this summer abroad, but I never planned it last summer because I didn’t want to go with the pain. (Good thing I didn’t make plans with the pandemic — it was a blessing in disguise that I didn’t.) Last summer I was also in the throes of muscle tension dysphonia, so my voice wasn’t working properly for 9 months either. That finally healed, thanks be to God.
I turned 40 a year ago in the spring and I absolutely hate it. I can’t find any peace with it and there’s no way out except denial. 40 means I’m ugly and irrelevant. Any consolation about how it’s not awful is like a gift box full of dog food. I’m mad about 40 and scared about the future too. TMS sounded appealing, but so far no results. I’ve done journaling, I’ve made space to feel my emotions, and I’ve had epiphany after epiphany. Also, I’m mad that there are many normal things in life I won’t get to do or enjoy just because of my specific personality and tendencies. Worst of all, none of this stuff can be changed. I had the thought today that maybe the pain is an excuse for me not to do certain bigger things in my life, because I never have had the courage to do them, but there’s absolutely no way I can get myself to and I have no one to help me.
All of this anger right out in the open, all of these realizations — and the pain doesn’t budge for a YEAR. What a crock. There’s nothing left to try. Reading success stories doesn’t encourage me, it infuriates me. I don’t GET to feel better, just like I don’t GET to be happy like most other people are. Feeling good is for the young and privileged. I’m trapped. Screw it. I’m going to bed.
Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of when my foot pain started. I was standing barefoot on a hard kitchen floor baking a cake and noticed a twinge. Since then, I can’t stand for more than about 5–10 minutes without my foot aching, burning, or feeling like the bones are going to shatter or puncture through the skin. I’ve been to the podiatrist numerous times. He has no clue. Chiropractor, regular doctor, a month of physical therapy. Nothing.
Then in December my butt started hurting the same way. Painful to sit. Feels like the bones are hitting the hard chair and the nerves are on fire. My legs burn and feet hurt when I sit. So there’s no comfortable position. All the nerves in my lower body are pissed off.
I am pissed too. I’m also really weary of life in general. I don’t suffer well. Because of the pain, my life is completely devoid of joy. I don’t enjoy anything anymore, don’t look forward to anything, and everything is just a chore. I’ve got a zillion hobbies, which I still pursue, but they don’t make me happy. I ride my bike, go for walks and take pictures (walking feels a lot better than standing), I bake, I see friends, I create art… but I have to drag myself. I’d just stay in bed for a week if I could, and it wouldn’t make me feel any better either. I don’t want to see anyone or do anything (but I keep on). There were things I wanted to do. I was going to spend this summer abroad, but I never planned it last summer because I didn’t want to go with the pain. (Good thing I didn’t make plans with the pandemic — it was a blessing in disguise that I didn’t.) Last summer I was also in the throes of muscle tension dysphonia, so my voice wasn’t working properly for 9 months either. That finally healed, thanks be to God.
I turned 40 a year ago in the spring and I absolutely hate it. I can’t find any peace with it and there’s no way out except denial. 40 means I’m ugly and irrelevant. Any consolation about how it’s not awful is like a gift box full of dog food. I’m mad about 40 and scared about the future too. TMS sounded appealing, but so far no results. I’ve done journaling, I’ve made space to feel my emotions, and I’ve had epiphany after epiphany. Also, I’m mad that there are many normal things in life I won’t get to do or enjoy just because of my specific personality and tendencies. Worst of all, none of this stuff can be changed. I had the thought today that maybe the pain is an excuse for me not to do certain bigger things in my life, because I never have had the courage to do them, but there’s absolutely no way I can get myself to and I have no one to help me.
All of this anger right out in the open, all of these realizations — and the pain doesn’t budge for a YEAR. What a crock. There’s nothing left to try. Reading success stories doesn’t encourage me, it infuriates me. I don’t GET to feel better, just like I don’t GET to be happy like most other people are. Feeling good is for the young and privileged. I’m trapped. Screw it. I’m going to bed.