If there’s something I’m sick of, it’s being sick. I’m sick of my physical symptoms. I’m sick of worrying how it will or won’t hold me back. I’m sick of not knowing about an uncertain future.
I don’t have control over any of that. I just have control to take care of myself. I slept and was very sedentary for a week feeling terrible. This wasn’t depression as a good friend pointed out as as soon as I had energy, I was up doing laundry, getting things done (in a calculated way), and I didn’t give up hope while I was being sedentary and restful that week, I was still plotting and planning for a future I still hope to have.
The old inner critic of “you’re doing nothing and wasting your time” definitely kicked in, but it was pointed out by a mental health professional that I wasn’t doing “nothing”, I was giving my body the space to heal to get back up.
So I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but I’m human and believe in being authentic. A couple weeks ago, I went to the pharmacy to get my prescriptions and happened to roll down the Christmas candy aisle. I usually wouldn’t give it a second glance, but I have ALWAYS been a glutton for Reese’s peanut butter Christmas trees. They had two bags on sale for $4. Unheard of! I rarely eat refined sugar, let alone any junk, but I took my two bags and had enough points on my pharmacy card that my two bags of sugary goodness that would turn to sugary hell ended up free. It was a sign, right? Wrong!
Along with eating both bags entirely in one night (keep in mind I’m usually stressing about eating my 7 servings of fruits and vegetables in a day), this was a disaster as I saw that even though my dogs food was wheat free, the second ingredient was “barley”. I have celiac disease. Barley is a gluten grain. So I have contaminated myself with sugar intentionally and unintentionally with dog food. (It’s a lengthy explanation of how barley in dog food could make me sick as a celiac. Google “cross contamination” if you’re interested.)
We are about to turn into a new year in 21 days where I’m at, but it will also be a new decade. Lots of speculation about big changes happening. A yoga class I went to Monday night was talking about changes happening even on a cellular level.
I’m supposed to have stem cell therapy on December 17th. I’ve been going back and forth in my mind if I really wanted to do it. I definitely do want to do it, but I guess the fear is that it won’t work.
A dear friend recently went for a relatively new treatment for PTSD called a “stellate ganglion block”. She very poignantly wrote about tears flowing down her face, not because the anesthesia hadn’t kicked in or that she had a huge needle in her neck. Her tears were fear it wouldn’t work.
I realized my hesitancy about the stem cells has nothing to do with stem cells, I worry it won’t work and once again, I’ll just be a disappointment to my medical professional after feeling like a disappointment to so many in a lifetime.
The interesting thing is that I am NOT a disappointment to anyone in my current life (or probably most in my former life). Everyone who I talk to about with in regards to stem cells are excited to know my progress and cheering me on, to not only try, but so many are praying in their own way that it helps me in many ways. I am surrounded by so much love.
And the new decade brings in a new roommate. Not one of those situations that made you crazy in your 20s, but two adults that can live together peacefully and be helpful in sharing my “happy” space as she called it.
This picture was our evening while she was sleeping waiting for her ride for work with my one dog while I was reading with the other. Looking peaceful already.
I hope you are looking forward to big change in an uphill direction in the new decade. There will be dips, but where were you in 2010? I was certainly in a lower place, emotionally and even physically as I had health problems, I just couldn’t find a doctor to listen or believe me.
Looking forward to 2020 with tears streaming down my face not because I’m afraid it won’t work, because I’m grateful to give myself the chance to know it just might.