Climbing back on . . .

. . . the horse is something that I really tire of. Especially since I am deathly allergic to horses.

Even metaphorical ones.

I seem to endlessly climb on and fall off . . . and over the years, it has become tougher and tougher to pull myself up, dust myself off, and muster the courage and energy to get ready to climb on again.

2008 has been a tough year. I'd like to say something positive, like . . . "2008 has helped me reprioritize," or "2008 has taught me humility and patience."

The truth is . . . 2008 has made me want to pack my shit and start driving. I thought about that when I was laying in a hospital bed last month. That's when I realized that I wasn't even well enough to run away.

That was a stunning reality - it burned right through the morphine drip.

Besides, I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep. I have small people that rely on me like you rely on the lights to come on when you flip the switch. You don't hope the light will come on when you flip that switch . . . you don't even think about it. Of COURSE it will come on - it always does, right? Well, I have prided myself on being that reliable light for my little people and despite my self-absorbed wallowing, I will continue to do that.

It's harder these days, I have to admit. It's harder to get up in the morning. It's harder to face that needle every day that reminds me that my body is dysfunctional. It's hard to look at the row of medications that I pop every day, lined up like soldiers, ready to help me battle a silent enemy.

Despite all of those hindrances, I still haven't been able to tame the beast that keeps making me sicker. I still eat the wrong things. I still don't exercise. I have to make these changes, but sometimes my cravings get the better of me. Most of the time, my lethargy and pain keep me from doing anything except sitting. Sometimes it hurts to move.

But I have to. I have promises to keep . . . and miles to go before I sleep.