Thursday, June 16, 2016
Back to back
It's been a two weeks now since I first took to my bed with back pain. I threatened my body with a trip to the doctors office and woke up a week ago feeling much better, though still stiff. The experience has been a bit of an eye opener for me, for a few different reasons.
I still struggle with assigning my self-worth by how much I get done in a day. My childhood had quite a bit of jump-up-and-look-busy and I still fight the need to do so to keep some imaginary peace. After nine years together, I still feel a flood of relief when Julian walks in the room to find me resting or doing something I enjoy and he isn't bothered by it.
In addition to not feeling well physically, I have felt quite low emotionally over the fact that Julian has been up and working around the house while I languish in bed, not sleeping, or pace the floors like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I've been so bored. This creates a nasty cycle of medicating myself so I feel better so I can do more work, so I can feel better about my accomplishments but then I feel poorly for twice as long because I'm pushing my body beyond the boundaries it has set for me.
It has also become clear to me how much neglect my body has seen. So many women struggle with a negative perception of their bodies. I am the opposite. I grew up strong and beautiful, thin and flexible, fast. I am not that way anymore and I want to make a change, but objects at rest stay at rest, no?
Tomorrow morning, I will head to the orthopedist and have an x-ray just to be sure. I'm having lingering numbness in both legs and a feeling like bugs crawling on the back of my calf. I hope there is something to do to help. I'm a little concerned they will say it all looks normal.
Why does 33 have to feel so very different than 23?
*it's ok for all off you who are more advanced in age to roll your eyes at me now*