Thoughts

First of all, as a Swede, I must wish everyone a Happy St. Lucia, even though it was yesterday but I didn't get a chance to write because I had a very busy day yesterday for once.  First, I went to lunch with one of my dearest friends, Jamie (who just wrote about me in her latest post in her blog and made me cry all the way through because it was so wonderful.  To see her blog click here.  Her whole blog is a wonderful read) and had a blast laughing till tears streamed from my eyes, then my cross stitching buddy came over for the afternoon and then I went over to another up and coming dear friend's house to watch a movie and do a pedicure.  What a day.  What a GOOD day.  

A friend of mine commented on my last post about me being like Job in the Bible, how similar we are.  But she mentioned that perhaps my anger at everything is actually Satan's plan, and not God's as I so stated.  I have a hard time believing in a God so can I believe in Satan?  Matthew Gray Gubler in the TV series Criminal Minds stated in a episode that if you believe in one, shouldn't you also have to believe in the other?  I think that's a powerfully true statement.  But I don't know what I believe in anymore.  So many things don't go right for me.  So many things don't work out.  So is that Satan's plan and I'm falling right into it cursing God all the while for Satan's work?

I don't know what I believe in since the accident.  It has tested my faith to the core of my soul.  What I know I believe in is the power of emotions and how strongly they can seize you and tie you to a chair, hands bound behind your back, so you can't fight back forcing you to either thrash about against the emotions, or give in to them.  I've been in both situations and neither one is easier than the other.  My heart and soul cry everyday whether I'm thrashing about, bound in that chair, or if I've given in.  I'm looking for answers, a way out of this quicksand of unhappiness and anger and I'm coming up with nothing like a writer with writer's block.  Or (and my dear, dear friend Mikey will appreciate this the most) as The Beatles sing, "There will be an answer, let it be."  When will my answer come?  How many more years or how many more surgeries must I go through before I get my answer?

Something in the movie I watched last night with my good friend, which was "Sylvia" (about Sylvia Plath) and towards the end, before she killed herself, she asked a friend (which I know find odd) who was reading her poetry, what do you do when your life just gets so bad and he answered, "You just keep going."  I thought, "That's interesting - that's what many of my friends tell me.  But it's such a bullshit answer!"  How do you just keep going?  You just keep living such a pathetic life no matter how unhappy you are?  Sylvia's first suicide attempt was before she turned 10 and she OD'd on her mother's sleeping pills and crawled under her house where she lay for three days unfound.  My point is she wrote about the experience that she "blissfully succumbed to the whirling blackness that I honestly believed was eternal oblivio," so why isn't it acceptable for me to succumb to that whirling blackness so I can be in eternal oblivion instead of this hellhole of a life?  No, I'm just supposed to "keep going."  How?  How I ask you?  How do I "just keep going?" like Sylvia's friend told her and like many of my friends and family tell me?  Because it WILL get better, is your answer I suppose?  I've heard that answer before, too, and I've been waiting almost 4 years for it to get better and yes, it has in terms of my reconstruction but mentally, emotionally, it hasn't, and in almost 4 years I've had to go through 32 surgeries to get this result, which still isn't good enough because my body fights me with every  contraction and scar band it can.  So when will it get better?  I beg of you, please tell me!