When my mysterious pain in the muscles of my arms, legs, and back started to seem like they wouldn't go away, one of the the first things people told me was that I should get a different job.
Being a waiter is physically tough for even the average person. There is a lot of time on your feet, carrying heavy trays back and forth through crowded areas.
Now imagine that when you are so stiff that you can barely stand upright.
Nonetheless, it's almost two years later and I still have the same job.
Tonight was bad.
The pain has left me weak and fatigued. Plus now it seems that I have eczema on my legs and chest which means even more discomfort and even more difficulty walking.
Plus, I've been having trouble with my eyes. They are constantly burning and are presently so swollen that I can barely see the screen as I type.
Also, my asthma and allergies are so bad right now that I can hardly breathe.
If I were any other kind of animal, I would have long since been put down.
My job seems to have responded to all of this by giving me less hours during less crowded shifts. I now make far less than half of what I used to at this job. I haven't been able to pay rent on my own since June.
Christmas presents? Not this year.
My phone and internet will be turned off soon because I can't pay those bills.
I can barely feed myself.
Stress increases my pain.
My pain increases my stress.
As I was walking the mile and a half walk home from work tonight, I thought about God and how it doesn't seem to bothered by all of this.
I asked myself, "have you prayed and asked God to heal you?"
"yes, Ryan. I have. So have my parents. So have most people that know me. Whatever his reason, God doesn't want to heal me."
"Well, what about the verse that says 'keep knocking, keep seeking, keep asking?"
"Okay, fine."
And so I prayed. The pained tears falling down my face. I begged God to do something. Either heal me or kill me, but don't leave me like this.
But here I am. Still in pain, with only forty dollars to my name, and seeing no help or change in sight.
I may not feel better in the morning-- in fact, I am sure that I won't--but at least my dreams are pain free.
At least I still have sleep.
11:05 p.m. - 2012-12-16
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
I remember me. - 2014-10-17
The Paper - 2014-10-13
A Post About Not Doing Anything - 2014-10-12
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