It's Lost

I feel like I've lost my funny.

You know, I used to see all these things, day to day things, and think, oh gosh that's funny! I need to blog about that! Sometimes I still get it back. Like when I was standing on wobbly legs in the middle of a wash, Tony pretty much holding me up while I wiped my snot on his shirt, and I looked at him, whined, and said 'why did I have to get the stupid horse?' Or when the nurse tripped on something in my room, let an explicative fly, looked at me and apologized profusely. I don't say, 'oh it's ok, no worries!' Instead I say 'that's it! You're fired! Where's security?!' I guess in situations where there seems to be no imminent light at the end of the tunnel, I turn to humor because, really, what else can you do?

I used to laugh...a LOT. Now, I guess life just doesn't seem that funny anymore. I'm kind of in a funk of wondering why these bad things keep happening to me when I try to hard to do the 'right' thing and yet I see people all the time being 'rewarded' (or what seems as being rewarded) for doing the 'wrong' thing. I don't want some amazing life with lots of money and a huge house and hours spent lounging by the pool while the maid washes the windows, I just want a normal life. I wonder all the time how incredible it would be if I was healed. I mean, if I could run around with my kids and roll on the ground and laugh...I don't think that's a whole lot to ask for, but the thought of other people having that ability and not fully enjoying it, well it's turned me into a grouch.

In no way am I perfect (hahaha, let's all take a moment to laugh. Ok that's long enough.) and I don't deserve anything more than anyone else, but geez, can't a girl catch a break?! Now is the part where I get mad at myself for feeling this way because I'm blessed in a million ways, more than I could ever name. When I first called my mom from the ER when I found out about my back, she said 'why does this stuff have to keep happening to you?' I know it was a rhetorical question, but all I said was, 'well it could have been A LOT worse' so all I should feel is thankful that I'm still alive and didn't get trampled or hit my head on a rock or gotten paralyzed.

When I think about it all in the short term I'm reminded of how far I've come since Dec when I was literally on the brink of death and I think, 'it's only 6 weeks. If I make it for 6 weeks, then everything will be ok.' I now realize that I never asked if there was going to be any lasting damage from this injury, but from the way the drs talked about it, it seemed it would all just repair itself. I guess the only thing to do is pray about it and trust that God knows what he's doing.

Dear God,
I just want my funny back. You know what I mean. I love you.
---Leatrice