There must be something in the spring that makes me go a little off. At this time last year I entered a funk that lasted all summer- it didn’t abate until early fall. And here I am again.
I’ve taken the whole week off from work because I lost my voice on Sunday. I’m still hoarse today. I went to the doctor yesterday, she breezed in, announced what I had was a viral infection, there was no magic pill, I needed to rest and drink lots of fluids and could go back to work in a few days. Gee, thanks.
I suppose I need to back up a little and tell you that I’ve been having trouble with double vision since around Thanksgiving last year. My regular eye doctor sort of blew it off and so I did too. Then it started getting worse, and so I went to a different non-blow-it-off eye doctor who sent me to a double vision specialist who sent me for a myasthenia gravis blood test. That I managed not to freak out about until the night before I got the results: negative.
Oh yay! Negative! Oh….no. Negative. So now what? A neurologist. Deeper tests. The double vision plus other symptoms mean something is going on, but none of us know what. So we’re pulling back on my eyeglass prescription. I’m going to see a hollistic health specialist since I’m one of those folk that believe in treating the source not medicating the symptoms. I have another appointment with my double vision specialist at the beginning of July.
At yesterday’s appointment I learned that I gained ten mother fother pounds since last year. Wahhhhhhhh.
I wasn’t really going to say anything about all this until I read this post from my dear friend Sherry and knew that I had been hiding myself away too. Yesterday I read this post from another blog friend, Chenoa, and really felt the fear I’ve been feeling: me, rolling stone, innocently gathering moss. Insulating and isolating from keeping my soul full.
Shit y’all. I’m scared. Scared I’m having something big that I can handle because I’m sober, but so resentful too because goddammit! I am sober! Can’t that be enough? Can’t it be enough that I suffered for all those years? Can’t I just be healthy and happy for one time, ever?
OK, I know. I am healthier and happier than I have ever been! I am, really. All the dealing with life is still something I am not quite used to. It’s hard! So hard. Work, and kiddos, and this and that. Sometimes that is more than I can handle without words like “neurologist” and “autoimmune neuromuscular disease” thrown in.
The funny thing about all this is I know what to do. I know how to feel better. I need to eat right which means four pieces of pizza are too many. I need to exercise every day which means go for a walk. Stretch some. I need to read things that comfort me rather than the book I’m reading now (The Goldfinch) that is totally stressing me out. I need to do the things I should do and not the things I want to do- and I know the difference.
The difference is: the things I should do make me feel capable and safe. The things I want to do make me feel fat and wobbly-brained. Fuck. The shoulds are good seems easy enough to remember. So why can’t I do them?
The things I “want” to do put me back into my booze cocoon sans booze. It all started with a bad situation in my recovery group and is now snowballing because I’m dealing with things in my old way (i.e. NOT dealing) rather than keeping myself at the level to which I’ve become accustomed. I got a big shove backwards and it’s not easy to regain momentum even though I know overthinking myself into paralysis is not the solution.
I know that I need to not sneak out of the pool and slink away. I need to climb up on the diving board and holler “CANNONBALL!!!” and jump back in. And so when my brain says “coooookies” I’ll just yell “CANNONBALL!!!” and when I want to hide under the covers I’ll get up on the diving board instead. Because that’s all I can do. Because I know my old way doesn’t work.
Because really, the water is fine. I am fine. I’m OK. I am capable and able and I can swim. Even though life is hell-ish it isn’t hell. It’s only hell-ish. And I have to remember that’s a big step up from what it used to be.