Prizefighter

Still tired. Still trying.

I would just as soon believe something is in retrograde if it would give me the peace of knowing these feelings will shift soon. The stars will re-align and all at once I will be okay.

The first issue is don’t pay much attention to stars. The second is even if I did, I’d have discredited their influence by now. So, they’ve always been what they are to me now – lights in the sky. Tiny and magnificent, shining a million miles away and reliable enough to stay still above my window so even on the most unstable of nights, they’re always there.

I keep trying to grab little victories and find gratitude for quiet things amongst my day. After all, gratitude is a skill worth honing. However, nothing has worked thus far. I had cake twice in two days this week. I should have been over the moon, ordinarily it would have made my day without a second thought but no longer. Or, at least, not at the moment. The joy fleeting before I can find the time to feel grateful for it. Even today, I’d had one of my best workouts since beginning this military program and I left the gym feeling as neutral as I did upon entry.

It’s Wednesday and I’ve worked 40 hours this week and I’ll have worked another 25 before the week is up. There is a base level of gratitude for having the work and the strength to show up for my colleagues and my patients. Nonetheless I long for a break, to work with my hands again, to feel peace and revel in the joy I so completely deserve.

I find myself reloading the last half of “headslide first into Cooperstown” and I’m sure there’s something to be examined beyond acknowledging the lump in my throat as it plays. As if my body wishes to purge this feeling by force or fire.

Anyway, another night passes. The stars still shine. The Earth still spins and I still wonder what this body can hold for the beatings it has taken. Prizefighter this heart is, it beats still. Tired and trying.