Well, I guess I’ll start by apologizing to yourself and to me. So many goals, so many ideas, and yet, I continue to fall short on all of them.
A couple of months ago, I created a master calendar. I had deadlines for my designs, pictures, and posts. I was filled with excitement. Everything was perfect…Or so I though.
You see for about two months now, I’ve barely been able to use my hands outside of work. My day job consists of alot of mail handling. To say “it’s taken a toll on me” is an understatement. At this point, by the time I leave work, I can barely funtion normally. I can take the pain just enough to drive home and keep myself safe. Once I get home, opening my hands becomes agonizing. And clenching them into fists is nearly impossible. My hands are weak. They are fragile. They are my life, my inspirations, my future.
You see, my entire being depends on them. To be completely honest, sight and touch are my most cherished senses. My passion for art, color, creating, and writing is all dependent upon my hands and eyes.
I have so many thoughts, so many ideas, so many pictures to take. And yet, I must rest my hands. My body demands this of me. I can’t argue. I can’t push beyond my boundaries. I don’t want to loose them. I love them too much. And it kills me inside.
I can’t create. I have no idea when I’ll be able to, again. I antincipate another month or two. Hopefully, I can find the proper exercises and creams to ease it. Doctors? Too expensive.
For now, I’ve been using coconut oil and slowly massaged my hands. That seems to be helping a bit. At least, it gives me enough strength to do the basic chores around the house. It’s just very time consuming and a bit messy.
I think I’ll try to commit to writing, at least from my phone, as I’m doing right now since it seems to hurt less than an actual computer. I’m not sure what topics it will be though. Probably just my life as a pet parent. My choices. My fur kids. And my random thoughts, as always.
And then, little by little, I’ll continue to create as I draft all of my ideas into my sketchbook, waiting for the day that I can bring them to life.
So I’m sorry for failing. I’m sorry for my weakness.