Ugh. I actually burst into tears at this point, begging the doc to tell me ANYTHING else. I have severe side effects to steroids. I blow up. I break out. Like bad. Enough said. Just wanted to set the scene for you.
More than a year later, I'm still trying to shed the effects of the steroids. (It's excess weight left now)
This morning, I woke feeling a bit disgruntled, not such a great night of sleep, I'm feeling more painful for the past day and a half because I ventured out Sunday. So, I dragged my butt to the bathroom, thinking an epsom and essential oil bath was just the ticket. When I got to the bathroom across the hall from my bedroom (a journey of 8 steps total!), I began to verbally blast my body.
"I HATE this body!"
"It's broken and I want. A. NEW. ONE!"
I determined that I was a bit above the pain threshold for considering a bath.
Then I went back to bed for a rest.
And I heard my voice. I have 2 daughters. I'm all in for making sure my girls don't do what I just did. So I decided to change the narrative. I don't hate my body. I actually ADMIRE this body. It's broken, but it still gets me through every day. I'm just getting ready to enter the next chapter in life. My firstborn, Zachary, is planning his wedding. My second oldest, Samantha, just celebrated her 27th birthday! In December, my third, Dylan will leave the teenage years behind, and enter the 20's... and my baby bird (who HATES being my baby bird!) Peyton, is 16. I will have only one teen left.
Soon I'll be someone's grandmother, with a super hip moniker, like "Mimi" or "Nina" rather than grandma....
I'm not ready to be done. And this body will carry me there. How can I hate it? I respect this body, because only I know the great lengths through which it travels, just to get me through each day. This body has an average daily pain level of a 6. That's a good day for this body. I will no longer criticize her, nor will I wish this body replaced. I will work to remind myself every day.