Anita's Haven

books, thoughts, stories, poetry, interviews, writing


on 03/03/2015

This morning I was toying with the idea of giving my back pain a name.
Something really nasty and obnoxious, so I could trash it or kill it viciously in a story, hoping the destruction transfers itself into real life. Or maybe some thing really nice and positive, inspirational and uplifting, to sort of trick the pain into thinking I respected what it had to tell me about myself and my life, so it would finally leave me alone.
And then I thought: ‘Hasn’t it been controlling my life enough for the last three months? Should I really even give it the time of day? Is it even worthy of a name?’


Finally, I did something else. I chatted with a friend, shared a joke with my son, read a few chapters of a really good book, wrote a few chapters of my own, kissed my husband, and made the most of a gorgeous sunny day walking the pain off into some fresh air, finishing the evening with my daughter in my arms, watching one of her favourite cartoons with her and stroking her hair.
Pain will pass. Life is good.


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