The Horn is Broken but I’m Still Honking!

CRPS may have wrecked my suspension, but I’ve still got enough sass to honk at life’s nonsense.  This one’s for the days when everything hurts but you still find a way to laugh, limp, and lay on the metaphorical horn.  Buckle up!

Some days I wake up feeling like a car that’s been parked too long in a junkyard—rusted joints, busted parts, and a whole lot of “not today.” CRPS and my other conditions don’t exactly ease me into the morning. It’s more like being body-slammed awake by an angry invisible linebacker.

And yet… here I am. Still honking.

Not because everything’s fine. Not because the pain is gone. Not because I’ve had some miracle moment of healing or clarity. But because, somehow, the part of me that refuses to disappear still works. It might sound more like a squeaky clown horn than a powerful foghorn, but it’s mine—and it says, “I’m still here.”

Living with chronic pain means constantly recalibrating what “success” looks like. Today, success was brushing my hair even though my hands didn’t want to cooperate. Yesterday, it was not crying through a phone call. Tomorrow, it might just be breathing through the disappointment of another plan canceled. These moments aren’t the ones that end up in highlight reels—but they should be. They’re real, raw victories. Small, but mighty.

And sometimes, even in the middle of all the mess, something makes me laugh. A memory. A meme. My husband trying to fold fitted sheets like it’s a competitive sport. Those little flashes of light don’t erase the pain—but they remind me I’m still capable of joy. Still worthy of laughter. Still me.

So yeah, the horn may be busted. The engine sputters. The wheels wobble. But I’m still honking. Still moving. Still showing up in this broken but beautiful body.

And that, my friends, is more than enough.

What does your “still honking” look like today?

Maybe it’s dragging yourself to the coffee pot, cracking a joke through the pain, or just choosing to get out of bed. Big or small, I’d love to hear the moments that keep you going. Let’s remind each other that we’re not alone in this ride.