After over two years of not working, well… not being paid to work except for the odd job here and there, I found my bank account low and my savings at zero.  All the while a teetering stack of medical bills is screaming, “Pay me!” from across the room.

I’d been drowning out their screams with denial and self-loathing for months.  I avoided mail with return addresses featuring words like “financial”, and deleted voicemails from anyone reading off a corporate script asking me to call them back. It was a good enough plan… for a while.

I burrowed further into my isolating cocoon, telling myself that someday the “R” word would come and I could go back to being a full-on contributing member of my family. (“R” is for remission, that which must not be uttered, or else we jinx the possibility.)

Feeling like a fattened leech attached to my family, Arthur fed on the stress.  I knew something had to change.

I’m always telling others to live their lives despite the pain, because unfortunately it’s going to hurt no matter what you do. I just had to give myself a swift kick in the ass and take my own advice.

It was time to get a job… a part-time job.

My husband and parents wisely feared for me, thinking it was too soon. Was I strong enough yet? Could I handle it? Would I just have to quit after the first week?

My only answer was the truth, “I don’t know, but I have to try.”

After a few weeks on the job, I still grumble at having to put real-ish clothes on and actually show up, but doesn’t everyone? What’s been happening though, is surprising even me.  There have been several days that I’ve wanted to call in sick, but after half an hour on the job I’ve found that the satisfaction I get out of a change of pace and social interaction are enough to make me nearly forget that Arthur exists.  Then there’s that money thing, and the instant reduction in stress that comes with having just a bit more.

Now I understand that many of you simply cannot work, or leave the house most days, but we can’t get so frightened by the fear of failure due to our diseases that we quit trying all together.  When we quit trying we let the disease win.

So try something new, find a change of pace, don’t let yourself get in a rut.  You’ll never know what you’re capable of if you don’t try.

Be well,

Britt aka The Hurt Blogger