Tag Archives: rough day

The story of the cracked pot

By Sacinandana Swami

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on one end of the pole he carried across the back of his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream, the cracked pot arrived only half full. This went on every day for two years, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots of water to his master’s house.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishment and saw itself as perfectly suited for the purpose for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its imperfection and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived as bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. “I am ashamed of myself and I want to apologize to you.”

“Why?” asked the bearer. “What are you ashamed of?”

“For the past two years, I have been able to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master’s house. Because of my flaws you have to work without getting the full value of your efforts,” the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and out of compassion he said, “As we return to the master’s house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path.” Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the wildflowers on the side of the path. The pot felt cheered.

But at the end of the trail, the pot still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and again it apologized for its failure. The bearer said to the pot, “Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot’s side? That’s because I knew about your flaw and took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you’ve watered them for me. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master’s table. If you were not just the way you are, he would not have such beauty to grace his house.

For the majority of my life I have heard this story every year at a martial arts camp, and it has always tugged on my heart. However, the older and sicker I get, the more it speaks to me.

Tonight, as I sat here trying to write the quintessential “Happy Thanksgiving!” post, I just couldn’t do it. I’m thankful, really truly I am, for so many things…I’m just feeling like a cracked pot right now.

It’s been a hard few weeks, I’ve been in a lot of pain and spending a lot of time in the “deep dark lyme place” of sad emotions.  I’ve had a lot of stuff going wrong with my heart, which I will write about one of these days when I have energy for that, that make me very stressed and angry.

Last weekend I had a flat tire on my car, so I set out to change it. I’d never done that before, but I knew technically how it should be done. With my sister’s help to lift things I managed it…and then was miserable for 3 whole days afterward. I just wanted to be able to do something for myself, to know that I could take care of myself in an emergency…and I did it, but I really should not have. I want to be able to do normal people things without hurting myself or feeling so sick I want to die.

I don’t want to feel like this anymore, I don’t want to be in pain anymore. I don’t want to be this sad person. I used to feel like a strong person, like I could cope with anything and still be a happy, positive person…not anymore. I’m angry that lyme and this pain have taken that away from me.


 

“When I was treating aids, none of the patients wanted to die, yet they did. Now, treating Lyme, the patients want to die because of the pain, but they usually can’t…Lyme takes you to the edge of death and leaves you there” Dr Jemsek.

Dr Jemseck gets it. That is exactly how I feel lately.


 

So tonight I will read the story of the cracked pot, and try to remind myself that I am simply a cracked pot and that somewhere there are flowers that I will be able to water with my flaws.

http://www.sacinandanaswami.com/en/s1a38/wisdom-stories/the-cracked-water-pot.html

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Where o where has my brain gone?

I miss my brain.

I’ve been sick my entire life, but there were quite a few years where I was not “THIS” sick…and I was smart, and funny, and I thought about things. Now? I’ve spent the majority of my waking hours today staring at the wall; I’ve been sitting here for an hour trying to write something worthwhile and I simply can’t. So instead I tried to read, yeah right!

Today I feel worse than usual, which is saying something. It’s probably the IV antibiotics I started last week catching up with me, or maybe the fact that I’ve had a particularly long and stressful week, maybe that’s catching up with me. I’m lacking sleep since I spent 2 nights this week in the emergency room, I’m stressed because my doctor keeps blowing off my concerns and the fact that I keep ending up in the ER, I’m angry about that too. I also probably did way too much housework all at once last night. Whatever the reason, my body and mind have both crashed, and it sucks.

I recently went back to school, which is awesome, but it’s made me realize just how bad my brain is now. I have realized that I don’t remember much of anything. Of course I can remember dates, conversations, when my doctors appointment is, etc. but I cannot for the life of me remember what I read 5 minutes ago or what the professor said yesterday in class. Thank goodness I take awesome notes…a learned skill I’m sure, since this issue has been getting worse and worse over the last 8 years.

 


 

So I wrote this 2 1/2 hours ago, yet never posted it because I’ve been sitting here staring at nothing like a zombie. Where has my brain gone?

 

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Pity party time

I don’t do this often, but tonight I am going to let myself.

This sucks.

I’m sick of feeling this way.
I’m sick of spending my evenings boiling coffee (see here for an explanation of that statement) and taking pills instead of out doing fun things like people my age should be.
I’m sick of spending more time in doctors offices than I do with my family (my ex husband used to hate that).
I’m sick of the pain. So much pain I don’t have words to describe it. The best I can do is brain numbing, gut wrenching, cant think about anything else, pain. It makes me want to cry, and throw up, and lay down right where i am and curl up in the fetal position and die. <—- I’m sick of that.
I’m sick of my body tic-ing uncontrollably, at the most inconvenient times.
I’m sick of worrying.
I’m sick of being scared to go on with my life; sick of doubting my abilities to do what I want to do.

I’m just sick, and tired; and sick and tired of it all.

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Sick and tired?…

I’m sure most of you have heard the saying “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired”, it’s a favorite among chronically ill people…I don’t generally feel that way though. I’m used to being sick and tired, what I am is sick and tired of is having to HIDE how sick and tired I am. I’m sick and tired of having to struggle through day after day of work, and taking care of everyone and everything, all the while pretending that I don’t need to be in bed taking care of myself (or even better, with someone else to take care of me!). I’m sick and tired of keeping my “everything is totally fine and I don’t feel like dying” face on.

I know it’s probably wrong to say this, but I’m sick and tired of falling in the in-between; between “I don’t feel good, but I can still keep up my normal life” and “I’m too sick to get out of bed”. I wish for once that my body would just pick one end of the spectrum and stay there. This whole “I feel like I’m dying, and often wish I was, but I can still somehow manage to get done most of the things I need to do” is killing me.

*Don’t hate me for saying that!

And please, don’t tell me that it gets better with treatment, I’ve been preaching that message to myself and others for weeks…it’s not what I need to hear right now. Cognitively I KNOW it can get better with treatment, physically/mentally/emotionally I just don’t care today.

I don’t know why, but weekends are my worst days. I don’t know if the stress of the week catches up with me, or the fact that Sunday is my no-antibiotics day so that catches up to me, but weekends suck…especially Sundays. 😦

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