Too many tear drops

I cried. My latest adventure in leg surgery has broken my spirit. I can’t quit crying and whinging over it. I do mean literal tears. I retreat to the bedroom, turn on the air conditioner to be comfortable while I wail, and let it rip. Totally in the gutter over this. Demoralized.

I have felt like my life will never be pain free or normal for a year now, but surgery has taken me to new depths. At least when I limped and had terrible pain, I wasn’t leaking bodily fluids. I physically felt better after surgery, but the risk of infection and general grossness was not worth the improvement. I needed it desperately, but I sincerely regret it.

And what if this doesn’t work? What if under the pink cast there’s an oozing wound still dribbling clear fluid? I won’t do it. I won’t do more surgery. I don’t care if it means I won’t walk for a year, I won’t do this torture anymore.

Or is the leaking the torture? At least the leaking didn’t hurt. It may have been disgusting and inconvenient, but at least I could live my life. I want to take a sledgehamer to my life right now, but lives aren't made of cinderblock, they're just air, so that would be useless.