In-Between Thoughts 1.30.20: toothpicks and sorrow

My sciatica is getting better! Quick, give me all the wood on which to knock. I think foam rolling has been the magic bullet. Holy crap. I was starting to get so depressed and fatigued. It’s awful not to be able to walk, sit, stand, or lie comfortably. For weeks. With no end in the sight. And a rapidly numbing foot. BUT HUZZAH I AM ON THE MEND. I THINK. One more week and I can see about trying to make sure I don’t lose all my leg strength and agility. I miss running. I miss Insanity. I miss the intense sweat and exhaustion and cleanse of a hard full-body workout.

So onto gym thoughts while I continue to build up my upper body while my legs atrophy into tiny little toothpicks. (Pffft, like my adoration of food would ever let that actually happen!)

1. OH MY GAWD HEGEL IS SO HARD. So hard and so, so, so good. I always heard he changed everything and he sure effing did. I am basically in love with all philosophers starting with H. Hume. Hegel. Heidegger. Heraclitus (probably). Jesus H. Christ. (IT’S A JOKE, SIT DOWN.) I have major doubts all the time about whether or not I can finish the program (logistically) so I’m soaking up this kind of focused intellectual engagement and challenge while I can. Love.

2. Depression has crept up on me these past two weeks. I primarily blame my physical ailments, but you know how depression works. It brings all the sorrows right up to the surface so the depression splits and tangles and soon becomes about everything and nothing all at once.

The non-sciatica sorrow I keep running face first into is my desire to adopt. I can’t believe how badly I want to be a mom, and how intensely I want to alleviate the suffering and longing-for-belonging of some (one hundred) children. I don’t know how to talk about it, because this kind of childless sorrow is different from infertility. It’s entirely logistical and situational. That doesn’t make it hurt less, just differently.

I feel like it’s pain doubled because it’s those two sorrows combined: my sorrow at not being a mom, but a deeper, more intense, probably never-soothed anguish at all the children who need, who desperately want a family, and might never get one. Or get an indifferent one. Or a temporary one. Or an abusive one. There are real flesh and blood children out there suffering, and I can’t handle knowing that pain is out in the world and I can’t do anything about it right now, that I can’t even do the little piece I am able to pull a few drops out of that ocean of pain.

And I’ve just not met anyone who wants to adopt as badly as I do (I’m sure they’re out there, I just haven’t met them). So I feel alone in it, too.

Nahh, I’m probably just blue about my stupid leg. LOOK HERE IS A FUNNY PICTURE OF MY CAT

3. Ok, I gotta turn up the volume on my pop ladies music before I start crying at the gym. 6 pullups in a row tonight! Then a set of 5, another of 5 and two of 4. Only need to add 2 to get to my former glory and current goal…