Pushing Through the Pain
I’ve been thinking this phrase a lot in the last month. About how I’m “pushing through the pain.” Pushing through the pain of a challenging class, a challenging injury, and a challenging mental health diagnosis.
It feels odd to write about pushing through the pain after spending a month not going to the gym other than to coach. But I’ve been pushing through a different kind of pain, which isn’t something that can be felt; it has to be carried.
Last month, I injured my wrist while on a lift in the gym. I was in terrible pain for about a week before I finally got it checked out. I was given a firm brace since it wasn’t broken and told to take it easy. If it doesn’t get better, I’m supposed to get an orthopedic to look at me. I know what that’s going to bring next. It’s not broken; insurance won’t pay for an MRI, so I’ll end up in physical therapy. If I’m going to fight for an MRI, I don’t want it to be for a bad sprain; I want it to be for something more substantial.
Then there’s the mental illness that I have to push through every day. It’s strange to me that some people can get up and do things without carefully weighing how much energy can be put into each task. I wonder what that’s like. To not have to give yourself a pep talk before rolling out of bed. To not look at yourself in the mirror and think, “Oof.” To go about your day without putting a mask over your face. What’s that like? And will I ever be able to find that kind of peace? I don’t know. I hope so.
Put those two together, and it’s already a tough uphill battle. Now, add to the mix my challenging class. This term is Performance Writing, which has taught me a great deal and is pushing me out of my comfort zone. I have never really written a screenplay before. It would be an understatement to say I was shell-shocked when I realized just how little I knew about the format and that I had to learn it in seven weeks. So far, I am holding a solid 4.0 in my classes, which I have never accomplished this far into any degree. I’m so proud of this accomplishment that I become more driven with each assignment to do better.
Fortunately for me, I knew my story. It’s been a story in my heart for ten years. It’s written to honor my friend who took her life at 19 years old. I wanted to immortalize her. But, as it turned out, I needed time to be able to write her. So, I’ve been pushing through some very old wounds with this project, stretching myself emotionally and pushing through the pain of grief.
In a way, this has healed something in me. I took something in my heart and turned it into a written piece. It now exists. If it took me ten years to be able to write it, it can take another ten years to perfect it. And if I’m lucky, I can produce it. It’s a passion project, which is the best thing for a writer to have.
