CHANTING PSALMS out of ANGER and FRUSTRATION

Currently, my temper is running on a very short fuse, swift to anger but sluggish in calming down. At its worst I end up upsetting those whom I love and even, at times, keeping temper simmering long after the immediate (sometimes trivial) cause for letting it loose has disappeared. There are many times my anger is justified especially when I look at the policies pursued by our Tory government, that of the US of A and, indeed, the governments and people of all nations that punish the vulnerable and worship private wealth. Very little regard seems to be paid to the unethical practices that have enabled that wealth accumulation in the first place!

My less justified outbursts usually occur when I am in rather acute pain and discomfort; one word out of place, from another party, can so easily release a vehement stream of verbal chastisement and abuse from yours truly. These are times when my response / reaction leaves me ashamed and guilty for the distress which I may have caused.

Having expressed that mea culpa I can move on to the more regular occasions when the air around me becomes filled with expletives and near blasphemy. The frequency with which limbs and torso are acutely and crushingly subjected to intense discomforting pain has recently increased, reverting to that state I experienced not long after ME (myalgic encephalomyelitis) first held me in its thrall. The main trouble is that the discomfort strikes so suddenly, whether in wrists, elbows, knees or elsewhere on the torso, it almost inevitably transforms the axillary lymph nodes into a discomforting, nausea inducing, dis-ease. During the night, as I futilely hope and pray for refreshing sleep, restless legs, painful feet, and lymph node tenderness compete for my attention, the only reaction that rears its head is a ferociously spitted out “Jesus Christ” followed by a torrent of expletives as I vainly attempt to find a comfortable position either in or out of bed.

This morning, as I checked out my Facebook homepage, I stumbled upon this quote from Blake Chastain – “Sometimes swearing is just a minimalist psalm”.

So, even when I find it difficult to pray, I find myself enthusiastically chanting Psalms.

In the Book of Psalms there is so much anger and despair amongst the ritual hymns but, none as succinct as the involuntary F-word that spews from my mouth when pain and discomfort is at its keenest.

(doing the) anniversary wash

Today was one of those anniversaries, a day when I determined to take a shower (whether I needed it or not), only to be harshly reminded of the reason that showers have become a less frequent event in the life of yours truly. By the time I'd showered, much of the time spent seated, a sense of overwhelming exhaustion (thankfully transient) took control as I stepped out and attempted to towel myself dry.

The past ten days or so have found me once again taking a roller-coaster ride in terms of my general health, ranging from a rare sense of assurance and well-being (following on from an intensive time of prayer) to times when even the sound of one sheet of paper sliding across another was sufficient to turn me into a shaking quivering wreck. On another occasion I was able to bask in the warm golden flow emanating from the acupuncture needles, a time of complete relaxation.

I'm not sure whether my current course of antibiotics, metronidazole 400mg (x3 daily) and ciprofloxacin 500mg (x2 daily) prescribed for an intestinal infection, contributes anything to, or even mildly militates against, any overall sense of comfort.

I remain, as usual, a work in progress.