some days it’s just endless coffee, pain meds and fresh Pjs

This is my third attempt at writing this, first draft was just not turning out how I envisioned, somewhat rubbish,,Second the words just wouldn’t behave, it just would not fit what I wanted to get across……This is my third and the very last attempt at a subject close to my heart, probably the reason doing this is proving so hard, but If it doesn’t look right, I’m giving up ….nah i,’ll just leave it for another day…

Saturday

I woke up early, to what was the most beautiful sunny spring morning, sky was that light cobalt blue, not even a whisper of a cloud in sight, the Forecast was for the same, all day, And so I had now run out of anymore excuses as to why not pot up the fast growing plug plants..I had to pass them each time I went out to feed my birds,or hang out the laundry. And I swear they sit up that bit taller and wave their tiny leaves in the breeze more, making me feel guilty for their sad neglect, I hung my head in shame as I passed them, quickly, very quickly, .trying hard not to note their tiny roots bursting out the tops of their little plastic cells, I turn and look their way just once, muttering ” I’ve watered you havnt I, “” what more do you want” ?😁, .I came in to sit with my first coffee of the day, it’s always the best and sip the warm roasted smooth brew slowly,eyes closed, appreciatively,. I’ve thrown open the Windows by now, for that fresh morning air to clear away yesterday’s funk…As I sit, waiting for the sweet morning hit of caffeine to reach my still sleep befuddled brain..I realise I’m at the bottom of the cup, My heads still muzzy, and unless anyone knows of a brand of coffee that comes in a slow fed industrial strength throughout the day, then I’m on my own🙄, ….Everything including myself, moves in slow motion, wading through molasses speed…I can’t string a thought together, let own speak, have use of real words….

But despite this growing morning Malaise,. I can’t rest, I feel deeply guilty, (those poor little plants) it’s almost as if they were capable of some weird sort of telepathy, getting through to my sleepy brain, with special plant powers. (I’ve seen day of the triffids I know what they can do,.they may look all sweet and blossomy, but we eat their fruit, pick their flowers, their plotting revenge, I know it😁😁😁😁😁, . So the usual routine of another one or two hot cups of nectar from the coffee bean gods is out, …No I go back outside, plonk myself down without much decorum upon the red front tiled step and with a sigh,. look about me for where to begin that mornings gardening fun…First I cut a cross, deep into the middle of a large bag of Miracle grow compost, it’s with some perverse satisfaction I do it too,😁 (I’m really not in a gardening frame of mind, those gardeners amongst us know what I’m saying). My body is still sore, my shoulder had gradually slipped out of its socket over course of the night, my knees ached, creaking and snapping each time I moved, all I had really wanted to do was take some pain meds and lie back down and wallow in my misery…but living alone there’s always things to be done( no time for woe is me), you only have yourself to rely upon…(And these plants unfortunately would not!!! no matter how clever I thought they were plant themselves….

I tried using an old plastic plant pot to scoop out the compost, from its bag…this was indeed a lost cause, instead of neatly transferring the soil from bag to tub, I transferred it over the step, beside me, the pavement, front porch and myself, only a small amount actually landing in the intended garden tub…there was only one thing for it…I was going to have to lift that blooming bag of compost and shake it soundly into the waiting tub…ungainly I managed to get up from my sitting position on the step, grabbing the opened bag, lifting it up, my shoulders protesting,. I hurt, ached and if it wasnt for the fact I had by now promised myself I would get at least one tub planted up, I would have given up right there, (And my stubbornness means I really hate giving up once my minds set). So I carry on, as I do though I discover its not easy to both hold a large bag of heavy soil in two hands, while shaking said content into waiting tub….I just want to get it done, I’m in no mood for messing with it, grumbling to myself I manage to shake small amounts into the pot, not just the pot though, it’s going everywhere but actually, including my bare feet….

After many attempts, I do finally manage to fill the tub, I plonk down the remainder of the now half empty bag, relieved all at once of its weight upon my aching shoulder… sitting back down, I begin the tiresome job of potting on….I’m not getting the usual enjoyment from it, it’s half hearted, tiring, but getting done…I promise myself if I get just one pot planted up, I can go in and have another coffee, So I work on…popping out tiny Impatients, Bright purple Verbena, and leafy lobelia from their green plastic cell homes into the now sun warmed compost filled tub, I work methodically, big plants to the centre, smaller to the outer edges, …I’m finally getting into the task at hand, I’ve forgotten I’m outside my flat in my Purple polka dot pyjama bottoms …(it’s my thing see), if my joints are hurting, trousers just expound the issue For me,, for some reason having anything around my legs just pull and makes the pain increase….Pjs are usually soft stretchy fabric, that give with any movement, …So there I am, chatting to my plants, as I dig them in, I barely take note of the car pulling up in front of the house opposite …so engrossed was I at the chore in hand. Then I hear a voice, “There she is, my new neighbour gardening” ” Exasperated voice rose” still in her Pyjamas “. .then as if realising I may just have heard, she makes a point of coming over….maybe to get a better look, or she has Purple PJ envy…whatever it is, she’s glaring…

And I’m torn between explaining my dress code, and growing anger inside of me….I had been in more pain than usual, (pain is no stranger) I was born with it, EDs, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome…it has meant pain since early childhood, one illness or another, never having good health….but since the Great Covid plague of 2020, my issues were only compounded…each days a struggle, some far worse than others…and today had been one of those, I’m soaked through to the skin in preparation, having hardly done anything, feeling sick with pain, but not wanted to give into it, I push my body till it makes me give in…I stay polite, friendly, as we do than usual small talk, ” the lie that trips so easy off my tongue, oh yes I’m fine, settling in well, ” I smile, no one wants to hear it, who wants to know about the pain, dehydration from endless stomach issues, chest pain, and feeling like poop..!!!!…So curtains rise, and I’m on stage…smiling, laughing…but inside I want them to go, because this lie may be little but the exhaustion is huge…Soon as my neighbour walks away I long to go back in the flat…lock the doors, close the Windows, hide…guilt wrecks me, it’s 12:30pm and I am still in Pjs, all be it clean ones, but I feel lazy, useless, it eats into me, So I complete my tub and go back inside…

All day its playing on my mind, going round and round in my head, I don’t go outside, no more for that day….I,m made to feel ashamed, I long to knock on my neighbours door, And explain about the EDs, long Haulers, justify myself, ….but I stop myself in time, because all my life, I’ve put this act on, that I’m alright,, I’m doing well,. when really inside I’m hurting…from early childhood, And the Physical Ed teachers pushing me to take part in sport, my mother thinking I was clumsy, lazy, lacking education, …The truth is my illness is not written on the outside, there’s no tell tale signs, I keep my bowed knees covered, the bent out of shape ankle, indeed to the world well….I’m just that, ok!….

Since this my neighbours throw away words have had a profound effect on me, …inside my head is a turmoil, ..once again I hate the fact I wasn’t born ” normal” I cannot do what others take for granted…I do my best though, always pushing myself, I feel instantly for the thousands of us that exist with silent illnesses, hiding behind that lie of a smile And the words “oh me yes I’m fine” …because what else do you do?…So if you see someone working outside in their favourite purple polka dot pjs, it’s most likely me, and I make no apologies for it, because if it’s that or me staying locked away in my house, then it’s pjs all the way…..Thank you for your time reading, to all my fellow invisible illness sufferers I wish you not to many pain filled days, send you love and understanding, And to all, take care of you …❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤x