One Step Forward

Didn’t realize I’d become so dependent on other people. Little things like opening the door for you. Holding the door open.

Buying groceries.

Doing laundry.

Driving a car.

Caring.

Loving.

Sympathy.

I need it.

It’s been since Sunday. I’m doing super good. Except for last night. I torqued my pelvis out so bad I thought I was back at square one.

This morning when I got up at the ungodly hour of 3 a.m., I wondered if I’d last the day.

Pretty much said it out loud by the time I got to Government Street and Belleville.

Then I was instructed to walk a block to where I needed to activate and appoint a Captain of a smozzle of volunteers I’d had to recruit for the start/finish area.

An angel appeared with a cushion and a chair.

Thankfully I didn’t have to man it long and was recruited to the plush office at Parkside for activating the Social Media.

My gosh. I barely got time to amble to the washroom to pea!

My 4pm when I looked up it dawned on me.

Who am I doing this for?

I hadn’t eaten. I didn’t really have anyone I could call.

I was stuck.

Yet, I pressed on until the blindness set in. Fuel was needed for the fire. Morphine for the pain.

I launched myself away. Away away.

And then again I said.

Who am I doing this for?

One step forward, three steps back.