|I swear I haven't been this happy, or had this much fun in ages.|
You will (better be) be elated to hear that I felt great while we were in New York. I have strict diet to follow, so that was a slight bummer..who am I kidding. I can live life without crippling stomach pain and bloating so who gives a shit if I can't eat what I like. I can eat. At all. Thats pretty epic if you ask me. I am not drinking, as alcohol is inflammatory, and also fucks with my hormones. Lordy I don't need my hormones getting messed with any more than they already are. So basically I just drink grapefruit juice and pretend its a cocktail. In New York I splurged and drank a few dirty martinis. They. Were. Marvelous.
It was so great to have fun again! We kept looking at each other and saying "this is so fun!" I never have fun anymore, did I mention that? I haven't been very social because I get sick so often (nausea, unexplained crippling stomach pains, ass-slapping fatigue, my throat closes up and I can't talk ((wha wha?)) blinding headaches. I basically have party pooper disease. Ha!
|I really love me a dirty martini. We like hotel lounges, especially really posh ones in New York, especially off hours. Its like a whole other world in there. This was at Sirios in the Pierre after we had a little nap in the park.|
Wanna know what is so great? I feel better. I have some witches stirring a cauldron and making magic for me. By witches I mean a few naturopaths. And its working. I am taking so many supplements, herbs, potions and lotions that I can't even begin to make a list. I still get tired easily so even in New York I quite literally just passed out early a night or two. I had so many extra things to pack for our trip that I had to take an extra large suitcase and check it. I don't even care. Its working! I almost can't believe it, I think I am having fantom pains because sometimes I can't actually believe that I am just sitting here and I feel...normal. Dare I say healthy?
I will skip ahead and not go on about all of the awfulness of the last year.
As you can imagine there has been a lot of fallout in my life. I withdrew from social activities because, maybe you can relate, but I got tired of being uncomfortable and not at home. Maybe I got depressed for real. I also cried. Lets see, I cried every single day. Basically I cried every single day for a year, and then like all day long for several months. This, after a year of doing fertility treatments (newsflash, it was the fertility treatments that made my already weak system much worse. Thank you fertility industrial complex that I inexplicably got myself caught up with, I paid out of pocket for poison.) I woke up crying. Like desperate sobbing fueled by anger and anxiety and images of my life slipping away like sand on a windy day. My dear sweet O is always so supportive. But can you image your partner in life acting like that all.the.time. No, me either. It would be hard for me.
|Birthplace of Roosevelt. Can you even deal? Right down the street from Gramercy Tavern, one of my favorite restaurants ever.|
O has never been sick, not really sick. Ever. He does his best to understand but, and I promise you, no one else knows. No one else can imagine. Thats why people form support groups when they get the wind knocked out of them in life. Ohhhh. Thats why. So one night I was doing the usual and crying and muttering to myself and feeling really sorry for myself when I realized this: I have to get my shit together dude. I can't be a person who overcomes a terrible situation if I wallow in it. I have to have faith in my doctors, allow it to take its time, and I have to stop obsessing and spending every inch of energy on trying to control this situation. I was making a bad situation worse. Much worse.
|Is this the coziest lobby you have ever seen? My happy place is sitting by that fire with my love and giggling madly and sipping a martini.|
So. I started a gratitude journal. I also write down when I do something I am really ashamed of, or things that scare me or boys that are cute and teachers I hate. After I got an actual firm diagnosis it was like my anxiety faded away and I had a choice. I could grab it and hold it here with me and focus on the things still unkown, or I could embrace the future and let go of all the negative stuff and let it live in the past. It has no place in my future. (Diagnosis: High estrogen that along with low adrenal function since teen years caused endometriosis and infertility Low thyroid function (thyroiditis) that caused low stomach acid that lead to leaky gut and some pretty bad food allergies and systemic inflammation and an immune system that is going bazerk trying to heal it and just making everything worse. Mal-absorption meaning not getting vitamins from food. Awesome)
I also stopped talking about it so much. Why? Because I was so focused on getting better, on understanding why I felt like I was dying from the inside out that I obsessed over it. I let it dominate me. I let it make me even more selfish that I already am. I was not a person who could support others, or be present or live in the moment. I couldn't be spontaneous, or fun or anything but miserable and did I mention that I cried a lot? I wasn't having fun because I was choosing to focus on not having fun.
|I found this on pinterest and it was like it was written just for me. I feel so much peace when I read this.|
So I have been letting go. Just letting it wash off of me. I feel like when I scrub my skin it is opening up my pores and smoke is coming off of me. Melting negativity is leaving my body. Sooo wishy washy but you know what. You gotta go deep when you need to. You gotta get spiritual and have faith and embrace the healing power of positivity. It is changing me permanently this letting go. It is changing how I paint. It is really changing how I paint. I crave subtle energy now, peace and calm. I am so moved by the expression in a single line. I crave simplicity and at the same time transparency. Its like before I was holding so much inside of myself that my painting was the only place I could escape from it. And now it is all open, all coming out and so much a part of me that it is reaching out and turning my head and whispering in my ear. Its my aha moment.
|So wonderful to go to the Neue gallery and have brunch at Cafe Sabarsky as we always do when we visit. My favorite person in my favorite place. Pretty sweet.|
I can't do anything about having a wonky body. I will never stop fixing myself, then falling apart again. I will never just reach a place where I don't have to work hard to make myself better, or deal with whatever there is to deal with. Why did it take me so freaking long to figure this out? But I choose to look at this as the beginning of something new. I won't write blog posts anymore about how I am almost better, just about to be perfect but not quiet. I didn't want to write a negative blog post either, but its good to get it out and maybe you can relate with this. Maybe you need a helping hand, like I did, do, always will. I feel like saying this all out loud and admitting how badly I have handled this shitty situation is healing in and of itself. I didn't reach some prize, I didn't pass the test but I did finally get that it doesn't matter.