Small Worlds

I’m lying in bed debating on whether to take over the counter pain relievers, my prescription pain relievers (always a last choice) or to ride out my rapidly elevating discomfort.  I have a congenital muscular condition that, on bad days like today, basically feels like every tendon and every muscle is being pulled as tightly as possible.  No amount of stretching, yoga or hot baths will help on days like today.  It’s just, well, a bad day.  Fortunately, since I’ve lost a significant amount of weight and I have committed to moving everyday these days are less prevalent.  But when they happen it’s hard to not feel as if I’ve taken a major step backwards.  It’s hard to not feel as if some behavior or action in the prior days has led up to this. 

What I really fight against is the overwhelming feeling that I am just crazy to think I can live the life that I do…that what my body is really saying is, “give up” “stop now” or “who do you think you are?”.  It’s only been a few years that I’ve been active and striving to be more so.  That I got up off the couch and moved again.  It’s only been a few years since I’ve done things like gone dancing or out for long walks or traveled again.  Some days I still do it but with a cane.  It’s been even less time that I have done all of these things without fear.  There was a time long ago, when I looked out my office window (I used to work from home) and saw women in my neighborhood out for their daily walk.  I remember thinking, “They make that look so easy.”  As my body grew weaker, my world grew smaller.  And while now I live differently, on days like today my mind returns to that small world.  It’s a struggle to keep my world bigger and to remember I am here now.  I am stronger now.  It’s a struggle to allow myself to be weak today, knowing it will allow to be strong again tomorrow.