Now that the worst of the pain is gone - that paralyzing pain that would freeze my body at night, only faint memories of it returning - it seems that it should be easier. It's not. I have the everyday despair to deal with. All of my life is in the past tense. I'm the walking dead. Sometimes, there are distractions, of course. But the panic that there is not enough to make a life out of strikes again and again.
Time, so much time has passed. How did I get through two winters already? Coasting on the pain. How will I get through another? I have to find something. Looking forward doesn't work. Looking backward is worse. Staying in the moment works, until it doesn't. Until I would rather be anywhere but here. Smoking stopped working. Drinking is not up to the task. I've been taking it easy on myself, but that has run its course, too. I'm at a crossroads. It could go either way.
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