There but for the Grace of God go I.

I am in a lot of pain lately. Spring in TX yields such changeable weather, my pain is off the charts!! And I'm sick of it. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. It takes all my energy to deal with the pain, I have nothing left to actually do anything. I'm cooped up in my house in agony, feeling very sorry for myself. Just the recipe for a lesson from the Universe.

I try to be a part of support groups - for RSD and for chronic pain. I have been to the bottom, and I have clawed my way up to where I am now. I've learned a lot on my journey, and I desperately want to help people NOT see the bottom of the dark pit of depression that I saw.

I just visited RSDHope.com, a terrific website on RSD, and the first thing I see is the on-line chat group for teens with RSD. TEENS: children who have barely started their life yet! And they have RSD? Okay, I was only 29 when I got RSD, but I had at least finished school, gotten a job, had an apartment, I was "out on my own" and doing what I wanted. It was the time of my life, I was earning my own money and having fun. And I still had a hell of a time when RSD took all of that from me. How do you cope when you haven't gotten to do anything yet? It seems so horribly unfair. Perhaps ignorance is bliss, you can't miss what you never had.

I'm friends with a gal whose 12-year-old daughter has RSD. She misses so much school because of her pain that she can't pass out of her grade. Who knows if she'll ever be able to graduate High School. Without a cure for this monster, she certainly won't walk across a stage to get her diploma. I got to do all that. She's in so much pain that she doesn't go to any school events - I did. There are days when I am in so much pain I can just barely cope. I have to decide if I'm going to brush my teeth or fix my hair, because I don't have the strength or energy to do both. And I lay in bed and cry at how unfair it is. But I got to be 12! I got to be a young adult; I got to have all that time.

And imagine her mother. My mother hurts because she sees me struggle and there's nothing she can do about it. Imagine the mother of a 12-year-old watching her daughter cry out for help, and not having anything for her. That seems to be the definition of unfair.

It reminds me to be grateful for what I have. I got a rotten hand of cards, no doubt, but I got to live a lot too. So as I wallow in self-pity (admittedly less than I was before) I still remember "There but for the Grace of God go I."