That's why I quit Facebook!

3/24/17

Sophie and I slowly walked around to the back yard, up the wooden steps built into the side of the hill, and through the naturalized, unkempt growth. We took a right and walked half way down the gentle slope toward the street.

I stood still while Sophie sniffed through the ivy that covered the ground. Her retractable leash in my hand followed her meandering. My eyes shifted from Sophie to the tall cypress trees on the opposite side of the road. As I watched the treetops sway back and forth with the breeze I felt grounded, calm, a sense of companionship.

Trees. My guardians and inspiration. Hope. Limbs. Trunk. Crown. Weathering storm after storm. Graceful. Sturdy. Bending with the wind. Year after year after year....

I prayed more with feelings than with words. A prayer I've prayed often the past few years, to trees.

Heal my limbs...my trunk...my crown. I've received improvement when I've prayed to trees before. It can still happen. 

My eyes shifted down to the left side of the trees, to the ground. In the yard stood a human who must "own" the trees. It was an elderly lady. She was standing at the edge of what looked like a small iris garden. Maybe it was something other than irises; the plants had not yet flowered.

But I'm pretty sure the long, pale green, pointed leaves growing from the ground belong to a type of iris. The lady is watering them. Her arm is outstretched as she holds the spray nozzle at the end of a garden hose. The water sprays out over the irises.

It looks so easy.

That's why I quit Facebook! The thought bolted loudly in my mind. It wasn't a new revelation. I knew the why when I decided to quit Facebook.

Earlier that morning I had been writing, thinking I might post a blog piece about why I deactivated my Facebook account last May, in 2016. What I thought might be a blog piece turned into journaling, and I went off on some tangents, as is often the case.

This visual alone explained it. This elderly lady, maybe in her late 70s, her arm extended, watering her garden.

The main reason I left Facebook is because more often than not I get reminded of what I can't do, instead of what I can.

I can no more perform the function the garden lady was doing than a blind person can see. My arms and strength simply cannot do that.

I don't have a garden. I wish I did. But if I did, I couldn't tend it.
I can seldom cook...or clean...or socialize.
I dare not pick up a baby.
I simply can't do many "normal" tasks, most of the time.

Most "normal" tasks that I am able to do, I have to do slowly and with concerted effort.
To do otherwise would be like asking the paralyzed to rise up and walk.

I am still adapting to life with this disability -- accepting it, not accepting it, and points in between. On Facebook, I get inundated with visuals of friends living aspects of every day life, events and activities that I'm unable to join in on. I get reminded of what I can't do instead of what I can. Reminded of the life I am missing out on. Then, often, I'd feel depressed. And then I'd feel badly about getting depressed and that instead I should be happy for others, which I was and am. But still, I'd be left with my reminder. 

Perhaps, if only a few stories or images came across my Facebook news feed, I could handle it. But dozens? Too much. Can't do it. At least not yet, and maybe never.

So, I deactivated. 

For the most part I'm happier. 

Happier with less. 

~*~
I receive my next epidural on 4/11/17. It will be number 16.
~*~

~ cypress trees across the street ~

~ Sophie is a little Yorkie mix. We are good friends. ~