Today is a new day.
It feels like an old day, a really, really old day. The kind where you feel at least 95 yrs worn. I rolled out of bed literally because everything hurt and moving my body felt like dragging a semi down the hall.
These days happen a lot. For most of my life, I have pushed through them, fought with the pain and fatigue, argued with the eyes that don’t see clearly, the swelling that won’t go down. I’ve spoken harshly to my hips that won’t bend and to the belly that spews things out. I’ve pushed on the ache under my right breast hoping to squash it down. I’ve ignored the blood pressure that dips so low while the pulse goes so high. I’ve pretended when I see stars that it’s ok and that it just looks like the night sky in the middle of afternoon.
When my words get mixed up or lost, I laugh and call myself old and with too many things on the go. The tingles around my lips just remind me to drink more and the burning heat of my insides and the flush on my face and chest tell me to take a cool shower.
I get annoyed when breath with oxygen is hard to come by and blame it on the increased weight that shouldn’t be there.
Today, I’m going to love my self enough to take care of those things I tend to ignore. I’m going to be kind and compassionate to the body that has worked so hard to keep me going for these 6 decades through thick and thin. I’m going to listen to what it’s telling me. I’m going to say I’m worth taking care of, even if its only me doing the “care”. I will pay attention to the pain, the blood pressure, the fatigue, and all the rest of what is known as Mastocytosis. My challenge today is to reframe my thinking when it comes to self care because I’m worth it.
When I was little my adopted mother said cruel things. If I skinned my knee “I deserved it”. When I nearly died from HBV it was “Go ahead and die..you aren’t wanted anyway”. When i tested positive for HCV after a transfusion..it was “You should suffer, you are a child of Satan”.
How could I possibly have a positive, healthy outlook of my physical self. I suffered. I suffered through everything…because I believed I had to, I deserved it. I thought thats what a person did.
When most people run to the doctors for help with pain, I pushed through it, I learned to look after myself the best I could and that meant….just keep going. I was afraid if I stopped, I would never be able to start again.
Our body is our Temple. The only one we will have. I knew that intellectually , in the Buddhist sense and yet, I pushed myself to the brink of physical disaster. I pushed myself over the edge into the mast cell abyss. I can’t fix it now. You can’t go back and repair the damage done. The lungs that don’t do what they are supposed to, the liver that doesn’t detox properly and the kidneys that are now siding with the liver. You can’t go back…ever.
If I was young, I would listen more to what is being told to me by my physical self. The best I can do now, is face each day with acceptance and hope that the day will be a bit better than yesterday. That calls for Self-Love.
Today, I will work on believing I am worth it. Today I will rewind the tapes for the millionth time and change the words to positive ones, loving ones, compassionate ones, caring ones, Words I never knew, never heard, never felt. Words I need to say to me, over, and over, and over. That’s my challenge on Day 3.