brni (brni) wrote,
brni
brni

state of the brni address

Yeah, so, it's been a weird limbo since January. Surgery, helplessness, some personal losses that hit hard, and memories of the last time I went through much of this, back in the early 90s, overlaid on top. So many endings that it was hard to see anything beyond it; so much pain that getting past it was unimaginable.

I've written many thousands of words - political commentary and debates, primarily. Fiction requires too much self. Wasn't ready to go there.

I've only recently started to climb my way out of the pit.

Three weeks ago, I started back with my sword-fighting school. Taking it easy, making sure I don't torque my shoulder overly much. Still, it's good. It's nice to know that my body remembers how to move.

Yesterday, I had my last physical therapy session. Still need to do my exercises every day for the next 2-8 months, however long it takes to get back what I've lost. What a drag, as they say, it is to get old.

A month ago I swallowed my fear and signed up for an advanced writing workshop. I've been hovering on the brink of panic since. Not because I am a crap writer. I have much to learn yet, but I don't suck. It's that it means dealing with fiction. My fiction. Which means, in a sense, delving into realms of thought that I'm not sure I'm up to yet. Not after this past winter. But... First meeting was Sunday, and it was a good session. I'm dreading and looking forward to seeing my own work shredded.

Today, (or yesterday, now) my last followup appointment with the surgeon. Just keep doing the exercises at home. I don't need to call him unless I do something stupid, like try to lift an IMR all by myself or something.

The shoulder remains stiff and sore, and it sometimes aggravates the neck injury I sustained in the car accident last year. When that gets bad, as it is now, the headache grows up out of the base of my skull and wraps around the top and sides until it digs into my eyes. When it does that, I can't write, and you get semi-coherent, whiny babbling like this post. I lose days to this, though I'm hoping that they will continue to be fewer and further between.

But I'm getting out and about. I can lift some reasonable weight. I can be useful in a datacenter. I can read and sometimes even write.

So, I'm getting there. (For some value of "there" that's better than where I was earlier this year.) A long, dismal slog, but I'm getting there.
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