I'm not sure which part of the recuperation process bothers me most, but I'm particularly frustrated by my lack of independence, my lack of stamina, and my lack of creative thought.
I live alone and am not yet supposed to drive. I must rely on others to run errands for me and, of course, nothing is ever done quite the way I want it done or when I want it done. I'm frustrated by my lack of control over my life, and by my lack of independence. Where once i could jump in the car to run errands whenever I felt the need, now I must coordinate everything with family and friends.
Yesterday, for the first time since surgery, I went to the grocery store. The trip through the store was probably the most time I've spent on my feet since returning home--despite daily walks--and I was frazzled by the time I returned to the car. I have become one of those people who clog the aisles as we toddle along, not quite sure where we're going or what we intend to purchase. I've discovered that it's just as frustrating to be one of those people as it is to be caught behind one of those people.
Although I've managed to spend some time working during the past week, most of my work has been editing and proofreading, tasks which require knowledge and attention, but which do not require any particularly creative skills. My intense desire to write, the urge to push ideas from my head through my fingers and onto the page, has abandoned me. I've had no new story ideas, have had no desire to create imaginary worlds populated by characters that spring from my mind, and have had no happy-ever-afters desperate to reach the page. I know I'll regain my independence, I know my stamina improves every day, but my lack of creative thought frustrates me most of all.
After all, I self-identify as a writer. If I'm no longer writing, what am I?