Wallowing in my own self pity. My bones riddled with pain that won’t cufice and there’s nothing that I can take that I won’t have an allergic reaction to. I just had to muster the energy to go see my mom. The only thing separating us was two separate flights of stairs. The first set having seven stairs, but the second set had 22 life altering steps. I say life altering because, even now as I just think about those 22 life altering steps, my back hurts, my eyes water and I cringe at the idea of stepping on even one of those steps. I can’t really remember how, but I made it up every one of those 22 life altering steps. But what I didn’t plan for were the words out of my mom’s mouth. Upon my arrival to her house, I was panting, clearly out of breath. Asthma has more control over me than I have over it. Any way, I mentioned how much pain I was in and how annoyed I was being unable to sooth any of my pain. My mom turned to me saying, “well, imagine one day walking about freely through the “Muddy River”, feeding the birds, then waking up the next morning and not being able to walk. I immediately felt shame for having complained about my pain. This story supports the old adage that “there’s always someone else that’s worse off than you.”This is not to say that you don’t have the right to wallow in your own pain a bit, because that can be healthy to a point, as long as you don’t go overboard. Be mindful of your surroundings, you never know what litteral dung you might step in.
Wallowing in My Own Pain©
By Felina Silver Robinson