Today's accomplishment: finishing Brothers & Sisters on Netflix while having a good cry. Perhaps I can add to that cleaning the house before 8am or growing my nails out long enough that I can't stop pressing them against my palm.
I've had some great accomplishments lately, including an overflowing room for the first talk20 Hutch and helping nearly 400 people get inspired at the Hutchinson Community Foundations' 25th anniversary event. And my marriage, my husband, this beautiful life we're creating in a little cottage with Scooter and Snickers and Jack whenever we can.
But, internally, there are struggles. Since July, when the stress of the summer caught up with me, I've had digestive issues, a pressure that won't go away. I went to the doctor in September, they took a blood test, and they said I was fine, that I should just try cutting some things out of my diet that may be bothering me. But it was a suggestion with a shrug, with no definite road map forward. So a few months and a lot of confusion later I started with a chiropractor/acupuncturist. That was two months ago, and though my meridians and hips are more aligned, though we know through x-rays that there's no medical blockage, the pressure is still there.
Two weeks ago I got a food allergy test back. It tells me I'm sensitive to banana, cottage cheese, swiss cheese, coconut, crab, garlic, gluten, malt, peanut, and wheat. The doctor tells me I need to avoid all of those things for the next 6 weeks to clear out my system, and then I can reintroduce one food every four days. Turns out going gluten- and wheat-free is not the hard part--going garlic free is.
I appreciate the restrictions--specific rules are what I needed for changing my diet--but I don't think it's working. There's a part of me that still thinks it's psychological, psychosomatic. The the stress of 2013--though most of it good--balled itself up and found a home in my large intestine. It's highly possible that the behaviors that would fix me, relieve my pressure, are the behaviors that I'm most afraid to do: exercising and writing.
Exercising and writing. The two acts that I know calm me, strengthen me, make me feel alive. The two acts that are just for me, that require me setting aside other peoples' needs and focusing on my own. The two acts that I convinced myself I wasn't worthy of last summer when I didn't know what I was doing with my life. The two acts that I gave up on when I felt lost are the two acts that could bring me back.
I'm dedicated to everyone and everything I care about except myself. This isn't a new revelation.
But what's the road map forward for that?
The receptionist at the chiropractor hands me a new pamphlet to read nearly week. They are always laminated and bound by an O-ring. She never has a conversation with me about the content of the pamphlets; she just hands it to me when I sit down, and I hand it back before I go into the room. They talk about subluxation and patience and Dr. You. You have to fix yourself, they say, and you have to have the patience and discipline and determination to follow through.
All this has me thinking about sacrifice and pleasure and humanity and confusion and the ever-present question HOW IS ONE SUPPOSED TO LIVE? On a diet? On a rigorous routine? Alone in a room? With lots of social commitments? Without anxiety? With pain?
Perhaps one of my ways forward is back to this blog, if this is the way back to writing, if writing is a way back to health.
