One o’ these days I’ll get it back. Till then, here’s someone who’s got it so much.
Today is a rough day. It’s a good day, but I’m having a rough time. I didn’t realize it until I snapped at my coworker. I feel like I haven’t been talking much since Saturday, but my voice still hasn’t recovered. I don’t know what’s going on. Days like this make me really fearful the surgery won’t help. That I’m too far gone.
There’s no sense in thinking that way. It doesn’t help anything. But it’s a worry and it’s real.
I can’t wait till two months go by after this surgery. I need to sing. It’s so in me. Stifling it is really difficult. I’ve tried singing just a little bit a few times today. No go. I can feel the roughness on my throat. I don’t want to make things worse, but I do want to express myself the way that feels best.
How can this be a thing people go through? It’s crazy to me. I guess any physical malfunction has multiple facets. But this one seems especially crewel. Still, I wouldn’t trade for someone else’s problem.
It’s weird to feel so weak and so strong at the same time. Yes, I want to cry every five seconds for some reason today, but I also know that through facing this setback, I’m already discovering more fortitude than I knew I had.
We’re not like vases. When we break and you try to put us back together, we’re not more fragile. We’re stronger. More malleable. We can roll with it a little more, and we know what we can handle.
The only thing I’m not sure I can handle is the idea of not singing again.