" Wednesday's Child Is Full Of Woe... "

“ Wednesday’s Child Is Full Of Woe… “

08/15/12

To my very, very dearest friends, and constant, loyal readers,

Today, although I may find myself to be in some lessened pain, nevertheless, I find that after a protracted, and most miserable fibromyalgia flare-up, there lingers—yet—a quiet sense of agitation, and despair; these flare-ups always leave a pronounced void, after, that lasts for some days.

It is as if the mind—having been captured, and tortured upon the ‘wheel’ of pain, is made subsequently dull, and empty of an higher-brain functioned thought. 

The body, too, suffers, as in this void, there remains ‘stems and pieces’ of distress, weariness, and exhaustion.

I seem to be made hypersensitive, so that loud noises, bright lights, sudden turns, or, any sudden shift in the status quo, caused me to startle, and recoil from it.

That, my very dearest friends, is why I try to keep dim the lights, and to stay inside the house, and to avoid loud, rambling telephone conversations, or even visitors, who—by their often quick movements, loud laughing, or rambling discourse gives me a ‘shadow migraine’; a hollowed-out feeling in avoiding stimuli that is—at present—overwhelming.  Today, for example, would not ( for me ) be a good day to venture forth, as the brightness and glare of sunshine, the errant wind, traffic, and groups of people ‘noise’ would actually hurt my eyes and ears.

And I truly believe that, being usually hypersensitive leads to social anxiety, which so easily changes to panic attacks. It definitely contributes to my easy avoidance of large parts of the common, social contract; which I am sure is either fed by, or is a major contributor to my agoraphobia.

While other factors can add to it, I find that near, unendurable, prolonged pain can successfully kick the mind into avoidance responses.  And when—at last—the pain does seem to ebb, a little, there remains something I can only try to describe as a massive mental, physical, and spiritual ‘hangover’, leading to depressed mental acuity and sharpness, sluggishness, fatigue, and a lassitude in the body that easily stumbles, is caught off guard, and, together, seeks only quiet, both in thought and volition.

The title of my entry—today—is taken, loosely, from among the many ‘fairy tales’, or “Mother Goose” stories and rhymes that we often thrilled to as children.

To the best—now—of my recollection, the said poem goes something like this:

Monday’s child is fair of face.

Tuesday’s child is full of grace.

Wednesday’s child is full of woe.

Thursday’s child has far to go.

Friday’s child is loving and giving.

Saturday’s child works hard for a living.

But the child born on a Sabbath Day, is bonny, blithe, happy, and gay. (1)

Some calendars feature a perpetual calendar in the back, whereby one can find one’s birth year, and go—month by month—to determine what day one was born on.  This is particularly helpful for those unable to find their birth certificates (which often includes the time of birth as well!).

For a long, long time, I had thought I had been born on a Thursday, but a telephone call to my favorite reference person at the local library, informed me that I was born—instead—on a Monday.  Frankly, I liked either day, as to be ‘loving and giving’, or, ‘fair of face’, ain’t too hard to live with.

My first questions to you today, my dearest friends, and gentle readers are:

What ‘day’ were YOU born?

Do you think, after reading it, that the phrase for your particular day has any meaning for you?  Or, is the phraseology just meaningless to you?

If you could change any or all of the above poem’s classification of each day’s child, how then would you describe yourself, according to the day you were born? It can be any number of attributes, long, or short, and does not have to rhyme.  And my request of you—today—is if you would, please enter it in the ‘comment section’, below.

For example, you could respond, “ I was born on _________ ( day of the week ), and the qualities for that day, that pertain to me are…”

I would kindly urge you to be truthful, but—as always, in my requested group participation entries—to ever have a lot of fun with it.

I already know just how very kind, caring, and supportive you are, and just how very much that means to me!

However—in addition—you can consider yourself to be anything…a great listener, a wonderful chef, a master at crafts, or talented in music, art, literature.  Or among what is—after all—qualities that are unique to you, as you are special, and unique, are many things that can be listed.

It can be how you truly feel about yourself inside; not only your abilities, but, of the contents of your kind hearts.  Being ever faithful, true to friends and loved ones, helping others in need, altruistic deeds, what motivates you out of love, desire, and concern.

I realize this takes it way, way above and beyond the simple implied qualities listed in the poem.   Consider it then, a beginning, a launching platform, from which to proceed.

While your comments—perhaps—should be free from braggadocio, or boastfulness, nevertheless you can—and should be—most proud of who you are, and of the personal qualities you show to the world!

I very much look forward to your participation, and of reading your comments!

And, as always, my dear, precious friends, please know I love you dearly!

(1)     I realize that the use of the word ‘gay’ may cause visions of gender preference, but, in this case, the use of the word—here--is to convey a state of light-hearted merriment, happy, and fun-seeking.

‘Zahc’/Charles