For the last month, my right shoulder has been giving me fits. I guess I wore it out whenever I was doing all that remodel and painting work. Anyway, it’s been inflamed, and I’ve been hoping it would calm down. Like, Chill out, shoulder. Alas, it hasn’t, just like my upset stomach of four months hasn’t. Ugh, this is the most frustrating thing, low to medium-level pain that simply won’t budge no matter what you try. Every night you go to bed thinking, Maybe it will be better in the morning. But then it never is. So what–do you throw up your hands, give in, and admit that life sucks?

Or do you keep hoping?

After irritating my hip yesterday while practicing for an upcoming dance routine, I called my chiropractor’s office today to see if they could get me in. They do this ultrasound thing that really helps. Luckily, they had space this afternoon. And whereas I normally lie on a “roller bed” that digs into my back muscles before my appointment, today I lay on a “waterbed” that massages your back with jets and–I now know–makes all your fat jiggle from side to side. Anyway, after the chiropractor adjusted my back, his assistant did the ultrasound thing on my hip, then used an infrared machine on my shoulder. So we’ll see what happens. I’m supposed to go back next week. The chiropractor said, “Don’t do anything on your to-do list for a few days. You have two shirts on, and it’s still obvious your shoulder is swollen.”

After my appointment, I went to a friend’s to help them with a computer problem. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?” they said. (Right?!) Now I’m at home. Somewhere between there and here, I’ve become cranky. At first I thought it was because I was hungry, but eating didn’t help. Then I thought it was because I was tired, but resting didn’t help either. I guess I’m frustrated. For one thing, my body hurts. For another thing, my spirit hurts. That is, I’ve been hoping for a long time now that “something” would work out and go my way. And not that I haven’t had some good things happen–I have–but not in the way I’ve been hoping for. Frankly, it’s been a rough year.

Currently the last thing I want to do is sit here and keep typing–because it’s too easy to bitch. When I start thinking about all the things to frustrate me, it’s too easy to–as my therapist says–go down the rabbit hole. And I really want to avoid that, since I don’t like that version of myself, the version that’s hyper-critical, woe-is-me, and gloom-and-doom. I much prefer the version of me that’s willing to weather whatever storm, is up to a good old fashioned challenge, and has infinite inner strength. Alas, I’ve yet to figure out how to conjure that guy up at will. Be happy! Be grateful! Be loving!

Ick. As if that shit works.

In these moments, the best I can do is take it easy on myself. Tonight that means blogging short, maybe reading a book or watching a movie, and going to bed early. It means not trying to solve all my problems this evening, not internally insisting that any difficult thing in my life “go away now.” Because I do believe that our troubles are our teachers. Used correctly, they bring out the best in us. Used incorrectly, they bring out the worst. And this is the difficult thing, to allow your pain, problems, and frustrations to grow you rather than swallow you up.