Bodyspace
I ran out of spoons last night. (Go here if you have no idea what I'm talking about...)
This hasn't happened in a year or more, so it caught me off guard. I have an assortment of chronic health conditions that aren't going anywhere, and I tend to pick up a new one every few years, too, but I am at the healthiest RIGHT NOW that I have been in 15 years. I've lost enough weight that I didn't recognize myself in a picture taken recently, I'm off not just pain-killers, but all daily meds, and the fact that I have no idea where my crutches are brings me no panic whatsoever. My headspace is even pretty consistently good.
Suffice it to say that my body (aside from this new stupid thing with lactose) is being able to do pretty much everything I reasonably ask of it these days, and I'm mighty happy with that.
Here's the interesting part, the part that makes me write today: when I ran out of spoons cleaning last night so quickly that I almost had to ask for help getting down the stairs safely, *I was not mad at my body, nor was I mad at myself for having the hubris to expect to be able to do things 'normal' people get to do.* I certainly didn't like feeling like I might tumble down the stairs, but there was no resentment in what I was thinking or feeling, and there would have been even just a year ago. (I didn't even realize it was missing until I was reading something by someone else with chronic conditions this morning.)
Don't get me wrong - I FOUGHT to get better, to get answers and workable treatments from my doctors, and to come off my pain meds each time I had to go on them. I still want to up my muscle mass again, now that I can get some exercise without it being a Devil's bargain paid in pain. I'm hoping this lactose thing goes away, I still hurt every day, and I have a freaking PhD in Spoon Management. My issues aren't getting better, but I am.
The difference is that now I've got momentum going, and while my health issues continue to slow me down, even frequently, they rarely actually stop me. I feel capable of managing my spoons not just because I have no choice but be good at it, but because I actually am pretty good at managing them after all these years, and, mirabile dictu, the number of spoons I have has been a happy surprise more and more often lately.
I'm loving it, and yes, I know *precisely* how lucky I am. :)
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[ Note: I've left this entry public, which I rarely do, so it can be shared around if others are looking for folks who have actually found light along the tunnel that is life with chronic health issues. Please comment, if you so desire, but please omit personal stuff you know about me from interactions other than this public entry. Danke, and Enjoy! ]
This hasn't happened in a year or more, so it caught me off guard. I have an assortment of chronic health conditions that aren't going anywhere, and I tend to pick up a new one every few years, too, but I am at the healthiest RIGHT NOW that I have been in 15 years. I've lost enough weight that I didn't recognize myself in a picture taken recently, I'm off not just pain-killers, but all daily meds, and the fact that I have no idea where my crutches are brings me no panic whatsoever. My headspace is even pretty consistently good.
Suffice it to say that my body (aside from this new stupid thing with lactose) is being able to do pretty much everything I reasonably ask of it these days, and I'm mighty happy with that.
Here's the interesting part, the part that makes me write today: when I ran out of spoons cleaning last night so quickly that I almost had to ask for help getting down the stairs safely, *I was not mad at my body, nor was I mad at myself for having the hubris to expect to be able to do things 'normal' people get to do.* I certainly didn't like feeling like I might tumble down the stairs, but there was no resentment in what I was thinking or feeling, and there would have been even just a year ago. (I didn't even realize it was missing until I was reading something by someone else with chronic conditions this morning.)
Don't get me wrong - I FOUGHT to get better, to get answers and workable treatments from my doctors, and to come off my pain meds each time I had to go on them. I still want to up my muscle mass again, now that I can get some exercise without it being a Devil's bargain paid in pain. I'm hoping this lactose thing goes away, I still hurt every day, and I have a freaking PhD in Spoon Management. My issues aren't getting better, but I am.
The difference is that now I've got momentum going, and while my health issues continue to slow me down, even frequently, they rarely actually stop me. I feel capable of managing my spoons not just because I have no choice but be good at it, but because I actually am pretty good at managing them after all these years, and, mirabile dictu, the number of spoons I have has been a happy surprise more and more often lately.
I'm loving it, and yes, I know *precisely* how lucky I am. :)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ Note: I've left this entry public, which I rarely do, so it can be shared around if others are looking for folks who have actually found light along the tunnel that is life with chronic health issues. Please comment, if you so desire, but please omit personal stuff you know about me from interactions other than this public entry. Danke, and Enjoy! ]