Why is it so hard for me to hold a boundary?
Why am I always willing to see the others point of view? Hold it in priority over my own?
Why am I always insisting that I matter and then turning around and acting as if I don’t exist?
Healing
Guilt Becomes Her
I have been seeing a nutritionist/health coach for the past several months. I’m supposed to have an appointment with her today but I cancelled and… I’m filled with guilt.
She, the nutritionist has me doing SCD(specific carbohydrate diet). I’ve made some pretty significant gains in my health since starting the diet, including an increase in energy. I think of it this way, if I had a million steps I’d have to take in energy increases from where I started to get to a healthy energy level, I’ve taken about 100 since the start of the diet. I still have a long way to go but that’s a substantial increase, given I’ve only been going the opposite direction for the past few years.
It was wonderful to feel like I could move. So wonderful that I wanted to move more and more. So I did.
The feeling of freedom from being able to move my body when I have not been able to in so long, combined with a sense of panic caused by a recent health scare (too much to cover here but my naturopath thought there was a worsening in insulin resistance and was advocating for a medication that I do not want to take. False alarm but…) seems to have caused a relapse in some obsessive thoughts/behaviors related to old eating disorders and long story short… I did too much and I crashed hard.
This is not the end of the world, though admittedly it did feel that way. I just need to rest….a lot. So, I cancelled all of my appointments for the week. I’m feeling better. I could technically handle the appointment today but I don’t want to.
I’m going shopping with my sister this weekend. She needs clothes, so does my son. I’ve been looking forward to it and I want to make sure I have the energy to go. I haven’t been able to do something like this in near a year (I’ve done all of my shopping on line). Appointments take a lot out of me and I get so activated that I can’t sleep after.
I do believe I’m making the decision that is best for me right now but…I can’t shake the guilt. I should go to the appointment. I should be able to handle it. I should be a good little girl and not make a fuss or cause any inconvenience for anyone. *Sigh* Man, childhood programming is a bitch.
The Impossible Task of Living Whilst Sick
I made it out to the garden today. I was able to tolerate walking around, checking on the plants for about five minutes.
This is huge. I have not been outside since I came down with covid over two weeks ago . I rarely watch TV anymore but I’ve been doing nothing but laying on the couch watching movies. I haven’t even been well enough to read.
I was watching Titanic the other day. I don’t think I’ve ever watched that movie without crying. The love story gets to me. I am a hopeless romantic whether I like to admit it or not. I also find it hard to separate myself from the tragedy of it all through time. How terrifying it must have been to have really been there. The chaos and the uncertainty. The way such things bring out the best and the worst in people and how I’m not sure which breaks my heart more…both, I suppose, in different ways.
Though I’ve seen it many times and not in many years, I found myself a huddled mess of tears and snot, sobbing with an ache in my chest usually reserved for tragedies of my own making.
This viewing filled me with the understanding of the beauty of life and the gift that it is, tragedy and all. Simultaneously, all of the grief of my life threatened to drown me.
The truth is that I was already incredibly sick before my son contracted covid and I did what most moms do…cared for him, knowing it was going to take me down much harder than it did him. The truth is, I’ve been mostly bedridden since my trip to the ER when I attempted to go camping in July. While my blood tests are showing evidence of healing that is taking place within my body, my body is yet to show any signs of improvement. Quite the opposite in fact.
Chronic illness is complicated. I can be filled with awe and gratitude for my life and the wonderful things in it while feeling tremendous guilt that I am wasting it. I am not able to be the mom and partner that I could be if I were not ill. There are so many ways in which I have to compromise myself and my values because of a body that will not cooperate no matter how hard I will it to. Though I know better, it is hard not to feel that I am too blame.
I’m living with a lot of shame.
I do believe that I am healing. Now if I could just figure out how to live while sick.