Woke up again with migraine pain. Day 6..7…I’ve lost track.
I called a friend yesterday for advice on a stuck place in my work. Was told that I am letting what I *perceive* as limitations stop me.
I don’t think this pain is a percieved limitations. It seems pretty damn real. It seems pretty damn limiting.
Apparently, some people can write books while paralyzed by just blinking one eye. Some people can write books while brain damaged. It’s amazing, isn’t it?
I don’t feel like I have the inner resources to be some people.
Still, I am trying to shift my perspective. Trying to think of how I can return to teaching — something I quit because I could no longer trust my body to be well enough to show up when I was scheduled. I’m trying to get around that limitation.
But mostly, I am angry. Angry at the illness. Angry that people can’t see how much it effects me. (I can count on on hand the number of people who truly “get” it. Lynette, you’re number one, love.) Angry at how alone that makes me feel.
Angry that I don’t get more credit for all the herculean effort it takes to do the things I do in just one daywith pain: feed my children; endure the pain of the traffic noise as I walk them to school; exercise regardless of my condition; be emotionally present to my family, my readers, my friends. Not to mention all the extras it takes just to hold a body together when it is this frail: the length of time it takes to shower when you can’t move your limbs without pain; all the hours in the pool, on the yoga mat, at the doctors; the enormous expense of medications and supplements and alternative practitioners. Even my gym costs more than normal because I can’t stand the noise of the popular, cheap clubs. Does anyone see this? This doesn’t flow, it doesn’t come easy. It’s a hike through the desert, every single step of it.
Today’s Plan:Move on Anyway. In spite of. In the Face of Pain. I’m not well enough to bike to the club to swim, and I don’t have time to walk because of a doctors appointment. But i can do yoga at home. I’ll cook from scratch so I can “eat clean.” Write and record the Do Less post for tomorrow. Find a new doctor (requires a bike or bus ride). Walk to pick up the kids from school for choir practice. Walk to choir practice. Walk home. Make dinner (in pain. I hate that part.) If the pain in manageable go to my own choir practice (Tho this kind of singing in on my Mondo Beyondo list, I may have to quit this because I’m usually in too much pain by evening.) Mourn the fact that my brief dalliance with moderately pain free living has passed. I will do all of this — and more — in pain. Despite pain.
What I won’t do because of the pain:learn how to edit my podcasts, learn how to set up an ecourse registration page (can’t concentrate enough or read enough), have sex, truly enjoy anything I do (hurts to much), ride my beautiful bike instead of walking (everything takes so much longer on foot), laugh.