march by numbers

too many fitful nights and risings before 3:30 a.m. one tired mama. four grand mals. zero focal seizures. three ice cream cakes assembled for friends. two cool, glow-in-the-dark nike running shoes from joanie. a bunch of 5Ks and a few four-milers equals one tender iliac crest. several weeks overcompensating. one foolish kid-lift. one wrecked, spasmy back on the mend. twenty-eight days abstaining from running (insert several sad emojis.) one book on healing back pain due to tension caused by the stress of anxiety and resentment; an excerpt reads:

her life remains as hectic as ever, she is perpetually tired and harassed, and she never feels as though she has done as well as she should.

it is pointed out to her that she will never cease being a perfectionist, that she will always have too much to do, but that the secret of getting over TMS (tension myositis syndrome) is not changing oneself but simply recognizing that the combination of the realities of her life and personality cause her to generate an enormous amount of anxiety and anger.

yes, anger too. she has probably never acknowledged the fact that although she adores her three little girls, she is simultaneously angry at them for what they require of her. the idea that she could be subconsciously angry at her children is outside of her experience. when she grasps the idea that the cure is in the acknowledgment of such unacceptable subconscious feelings, the pain will cease.

. . . one deep grateful breath for the validation of what i already consciously acknowledge but hadn't applied to injury. two stinging, weeping eyes for the suggestion. three major turkeys: one five-foot-one, ninety-two-pound boy giving me a run for my money; one ridiculous dog; one hard-working (seven days a week) husband. countless hugs from my son. a bunch of tasty perishables hand-delivered from friends. several good movies. four ounces of crushed cannabis bud being made into thca oil for calvin. one faded bouquet of tiny white daffodils with peachy centers given to me in exchange for a slice of ice cream cake. a dozen edited manuscript chapters. too many frigid days for this fair-weather, west-coast "kid." countless magnificent skies, clear and cloudy. nine- and ten-day stints between most of calvin's seizures. four fingers crossed that his seizures lessen. scores of crocuses smiling up at me. zero nights out on the town. zero family visits. zero vacations to exotic and amazing places. three family excursions in the confines of our car. one good cry. two social security supplemental income applications to complete for calvin. one pile of smellie's vomit scraped and rubbed off the rug. one cracked iphone. several tears shed. four covid tests for two long-overdue dinner parties. infinite thanks for friends who love and hug and kiss this zany chick. three bird baths quenching thirsty cardinals, jays, robins, chickadees and squirrels. scads of delicious dinners cooked by one loving and talented husband. a few quarrels. several long car rides. fifty-five, or so, nice walks on the trails and back roads. handful of friendly and much-appreciated encounters with strangers and friends. infinite satisfying panoramas. abundant gratitude.

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