RA Unedited #4

Here I am again this morning, standing at the intersection of overindulgence and overdoing, a little neighborhood known as massive pain.  The sad part is, as always, knowing I did this to myself. Not the disease that cause the symptoms to flair mind you, I won’t take responsibility for the entire shitshow, but the doing of the things I am well aware bring on the pain?  Yeah, that was me, I did that.  How might you ask?  Easier than you’d think.

Now that I am here, I can see every wrong turn I made to get here and everyone who jumped on the wagon to help drive it on.  It all started with a terrible night of sleep. To be more honest, an emotionally charged terrible night of sleep.  One of my rocks, my go to problem solving, share the struggle besties is fighting for her life and I am, understandably distraught over the idea of losing her.  Knowing how hard she has fought to get here, is breaking my heart.  It leaves me anxious and sad, not good sleep companions. 

Chasing a terrible night of sleep with a holiday while continuing to try to stay positive while feeling al the feels?  Is something only a Mom would attempt to do I think.  I could have phoned it all in, arrived empty handed at the family potluck, let the kids fend for themselves for breakfast.  Everyone involved is well aware how hard things can get for me.  Not a single person would have been upset.  So, what did I do when I woke up yesterday feeling low and tired?  Without even a glance in the direction of self-love and self-care, I plunged head on into pretending I can do it all. 

First up, a new cinnamon bread recipe I just had to try out and what better time than Easter morning?  Maybe any day that I wasn’t also making pull apart bread for a big crowd…yeah that might be why my arms are killing me.  The worst part?  The cinnamon bread was a total flop.  Worst bread ever.  My boys definitely would have been just as happy if I’d popped that can of cinnamon rolls they brought home in the oven.  And I wouldn’t have eaten them. 

Speaking of eating, that would be my final series of wrong turns.  Bread, cookies, cheesecake, rich creamy chowder, I hit all my flare foods like there was no tomorrow in which I would have to face the consequences of my actions.  So here we are once again. Suffering the consequences of faking it in a body that just doesn’t play along.  Fortunately, I’ve been here before.  I know what to do, and what not to do, to ease my symptoms and get back to feeling better.  If you have been following my story over on Patreon you know this is a fluke.  If I can keep being nicer to me, I can keep having fewer days like this. Today is a good reminder of what I need to keep doing and what I am going to have to let go of.

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