…want me to be a quitter. But I'm not a quitter. I am a fighter. My life has become a constant battle to remain physically mobile, mentally alert, and to help others as much as I can. I fight these battles even though most people tell me to quit. They tell me I'm fine, but my body and mind are failing me, and I know it. They tell me to give up on helping someone because it's hard. Yes, it is hard, but it is also something I am, at least for the time being, capable of doing. I have cried every night so far since this adventure began. I have cried tears of frustration, tears of anger, tears of sorrow (because I really miss my family), and tears of pain. My body hurts so bad that I cry when I lay down to relax. It takes me so much longer to get out of bed, and my joints and muscles are stiff beyond belief. Getting dressed is painful as my range of motion lessens. Breathing is harder lately. I feel myself struggling to catch my breath on a regular basis, and reach for my inhaler often, which only makes the constant shaking worse. Still, I push through. I want to drink to ease the pain and calm my mind, but I know that drinking will not make it better, it may mask the pain and the emotions for a short time, but will not make them go away. I've thought about taking my pain meds, but they leave me feeling "off", and I need to be at 100% (or as close to it as I can be) to do all the driving and work that being here requires.
The work I'm doing is physically demanding, and most of the time I have not had help with setting up, which I must do every day I work. I have to go pick up a trailer, drive it to the market, unload everything, set up a booth, and start cooking while I wait for the other employee to show up. He is a great worker and is beyond helpful when he's there. The clean up is much better, because I have help, and we're getting pretty fast at it too. Yesterday we cleaned up and were ready to leave in about 40 minutes. That's way better than the hour and a half of the first night. Then I have to return the trailer, and then head to my camper. I get "home" any time from 9:30-midnight. I'm not making the money I need to make to have this work out, yet…but I have to believe that business will pick up soon. It has to. It would be easy for me to walk away and just say "Sorry, this isn't working out." But I'm not a quitter. If I walk away now, both my brother and I are out a lot of money, which is not something I can handle being responsible for. I don't want to let my brother down, and I don't want to let myself down. I know what I am capable of, and doing any less than that is unacceptable.
My emotions are trying to get the best of me. I need company, someone to talk to out here. It's lonely and gives me too much time to think. Ya know, when your thoughts tend to go to extremes and you start trying to reevaluate your life based on these extreme thoughts. Yup, not a place I should be going right now. I've been taking baby wipe baths, and driving around trying to find something to do that doesn't involve a lot of strangers (because I don't want to deal with strangers right now) but not having much luck.
I need a shower, a hike, and a friend. I wish I was more confident in my abilities, maybe then I'd be brave enough to try a hike alone. I know that I don't want to go somewhere where I won't be found if I get into trouble, but not knowing the area makes that a lot harder. As for the physical and emotional pain…I keep fighting…one minute at a time…one hour…one day. I draw, and write to escape my thoughts, and try to ignore the pain. I know I could be a lot worse off. My daily drives into town (where cell service is available) to call home both helps and hurts. They seem to be doing fine without me, which gets my mind going to those dark places again. I wonder if they need me anymore, if they want me around. I contemplate staying here. Not in the camper, but finding a second job, and renting a place just for me. I want to see the familiar face of someone who doesn't judge me. I have a very select few that fit that category, but none of them live here, and it's selfish of me to ask them to come see me, so I don't. I might drop hints (subtle or not), but I can't be upset if no one shows up. After all. I am the one who put myself in this situation. Still, the alone time and meager accommodations have made me more thankful for my family, friends, and modern conveniences.