In between the sadness, the pain, the exhaustion.....I am busy with a lot of different things that pertain to Pudendal Neuralgia and to Spreading Awareness. The Support Group has grown over these past few months and we have reached our full capacity. There are nine of us now, including myself. This is good. It took a lot longer than what I thought it would, but what it is today, is very nice, comfortable and intimate. I am busy organizing projects with Lesley College in Boston, through their Feminist Club. It looks like things are coming through and that we will be able to educate and to give info. about genital pain syndromes. I have also been busy trying to put together creative art workshops for women with Vulv., PN and IC by women with these conditions. Finally that has come together too. And I have been going to NewTV to get private lessons on Final Cut Pro so that I will be able to move forward with my video. I have a picnic 'blanket' that I leave at NewTV and that I spread on the floor for my lesson. Pain all the time, all the friggin time does not stop me from moving forward. I figure that as long as I am alive at least I can do what I can do to bring the alleviation of suffering from future sufferers. In the meantime this gives me a reason to live, a passion to fight for and a cause to devote myself to. Hair or no hair, I am an amazon of some sort. With my curls somewhere in some nearby dumpster, I look less like a medusa and more like a boy??? That is okay, if you look into my eyes from up close you will see oasis' of compassion and that is the true source of my femininity. That and my creativity. Isn't that what my poem about destiny and compassion's meeting was about? So, yes, I try to move forward with the physical pain that pins me down and with the emotional pain that pulls me down, into the bowels of dark ponds and funerals. I mourn the loss of my father daily and hourly. He is slipping from us and we are powerless. Still, I plug through. I made myself promises that I swore to live by. I came to this earth swearing that I would live by them. I came to this earth knowing that I had come to live by them. And so I do. I swore enough times that I would stay and that I would fight on God's/Godess' side. And so pain or no pain, I continue. Sometimes I become forlorn and it feels to me as though I will never collect the fluid mess that I have become, and then life pulls and tugs its way back into my tired veins and once again I find myself trying to create something, something meaningful, something that makes a life of pain, a life worth living.
I have such a strong faith. As though I know that I have been called to this suffering. But, I am so little next to this great endeavor. And so many times all I want is to do is curl into a ball and to disappear. So, I don't ask so many questions anymore. I don't ask the 'why' that my mind was obsessed with when I found my spirit still alive, in the psychiatric ward. I don't ask why because I live it today. Is this a blessing or a curse? Did my spirit/soul take upon itself too much? And do we really choose our lives before we live them? I don't expect an answer, as I said, I live my answers. Living the answers to my questions is what sustains me, keeps me with the will to live. It is what I begged for when I begged to die too. And so if my destiny is to live then I will live it in accordance with my prayer. And as long as I can continue to live this way, with my pain levels still leaving me some breathing space for life, I am determined to be grateful.