It's a Wash

It's been an ass of a couple of weeks. I've been in pain and sleeping in 2-3 hour chunks in chairs and sofas and leaning against walls since the end of June and it's officially mid July and as suddenly as the pain hit, the pain is gone.

It literally, legitimately sent me to the ER a few days ago and now at 5:55 pm on the 15th of July it is like it never existed.

(except, though, certain movements, gestures, reflexes, etc send a little pulse point to remind me that it's not gone forever. but that is also making it easier to trace. If I can find where the problem starts I'll know how to fix it)

Pain is humbling. Pain you can't control is exhausting. Pain can be humiliating, even if it's only you doing it to yourself. And there's always going to be a moment when you wonder if you'll ever be pain-free again and what would you do to experience it. You offer your soul to whoever or whatever is listening.

And then for no reason at all something happens. And it stops.

No slow fade. No receding waves. No bruise to see fade from black to purple to yellow to gone. Just like a switch turned off.

The switch is still lit up though, so you can find in the dark. Reminding you it can be turned back on.

But I made a deal, didn't I. My soul for relief. So what does that mean.

It means I have to go back to being myself. I have a very specific role that I fill. I'm exactly who I'm supposed to be. That piece didn't fit and couldn't be forced in. Or was forcefully evicted because it was trying to fit where it shouldn't. I don't even know what it was now. But it doesn't matter because now I fit again and that means the things that fit with me will have room and maybe there are new things.