Letting the phone ring.

The past two years have been incredibly tough as what seemed the rapid acceleration of my chronic pain has left me with gaping emotional and spiritual scars. To look back, I could say I was in denial but worse than that- it was like having an out of body experience but instead of being joyous and seeing myself moving towards the light- I felt almost nothing but a tinge of sadness in watching myself literally disappear.

Chronic pain makes it very stressful to make any plans because you never know if you can keep your end of the bargain. You can only cancel so many invites before the phone ceases to ring and sadly, you kind of feel relieved. Answering the phone sometimes becomes a chore because when the person on the other end inevitably asks you "how you are?" you can tell the truth and now discuss a subject that makes you scream out loud or  you might choose to hesitantly reply "Not too bad." However, if the pain has you in the throes of its force and you receive an enthusiastic response, you must know find the energy to carry on the façade. THAT IS WHY I GENERALLY LET THE PHONE RING! My grandmother is typically my exception because with her, I don't need to wear any mask so it is truly a "hellish," day when I don't answer my special angel's phone call.




In my early years of experiencing daily pain, I would make every effort to go to events and activities for my kids despite the pain. For years, I ran a music studio and even when my pain began to betray me, I pushed myself to a point beyond breaking because I couldn't bare the thought of letting down my students or their families. It was ironic, sometimes I would be lecturing my student on their lack of practice (especially before an exam or performance) and inside, I would be weeping because I could no longer play the piano--such was the nerve pain in my arms and hands.


However, the pain has weakened me over the years and somehow missing one event or concert has stretched into missing several events etc. I remember one event in particular where my favourite and uplifting group "The Tenors," were performing and we had tickets. I was in a dark place with pain that night but I still took the time to carefully dress my handsome son, Christian and my beautiful girl, Malia. Oh my, they looked divine....anyways, off they went with my husband, all of us waving goodbye to each other, I felt relief to be home and yet so incredibly devastated. Worried that I would always be waving goodbye and worried that one day, they would forget to wave back. FORGOTTEN! AND in complete realization that Life had gone on without me!

MY PRECIOUS DOGS  STAYED GLUED to my side as if they sensed that their unconditional love was not only needed but NECCESSARY that particular night.  I knew God had sent them to me in my time of need and I was so grateful for their companionship that expected nothing from me in return but a rub behind their ears. Maestro, Kiesa, Oliver and Solomon's unconditional love never failed to make me feel present even if it was just a little piece of me. I think that detaching myself from my feelings is the only way that I won't completely break into pieces when I think about my "new reality."







 Both my children are gifted actors but I realize that I, their mother, had put on the biggest performance of my life just getting out of bed and carrying on is some sort of capacity during those difficult days. I was fortunate during these very bleak months to have just an hour or two of moments where I felt truly present. Chronic pain and depression now held the keys to my daily life and frankly, it was obvious they had set up house. The fog was so diminishing and hours turned into days and days into weeks until I started to truly think that "THIS" was my new norm! Looking at some of Christian and Malia's acting photos ignite a small fire inside me, I want to help them achieve their dreams and be present with them on set. I cannot give up completely!!











Becoming house-bound was my personal safety net and it took a lot for me to even want to venture out. Honestly, before chronic pain became my best friend, I never understood people who didn't leave their house. But now of course, I understand it differently as I now stand firmly in the shoes that I never wanted to wear. Personally, I don't think one ever sets out to alienate themselves from society by taking cover in their house but over time, it can make sense, it can make things easier. You don't have to pretend, you don't have to engage, you don't have to even truly "BE."


ANY TYPE OF PAIN CAN RENDER YOU HOUSEBOUND and SADLY, it's ironic that your safe haven becomes in the very same moment, your private prison cell.


So, next time, don't judge or forget to think about the person who for their own unique reasons choose to stay inside their house. Pray that one day, they will find the strength TO answer the phone, TO open the door and then,  TO take a step. It is very difficult  to be brave enough to face your inner voice that will sometimes rise and make you acknowledge your true loneliness.


I am blessed to be able to say that after being extremely housebound, I am slowly learning that not all of my plans must remain tightly locked in a drawer. Looking back at those lonely two years where I barely ventured out of my home, I am learning  new strategies for dealing with the pain that helps me find moments of joy outside my home. I know there are tough days ahead where I will choose to stay home but at the same time, I don't want chronic pain to hold the key that will decide if the door can remain open.


So take that first step, if need be, let someone take your hand. THEN, take a moment until that moment turns into a day and the days turn into weeks and LIVING becomes your new norm.
I, for one, will be cheering you on!
Be kind to yourself on days that you sink into darkness but tomorrow may be brighter, always know that there can be a better day!