It’s kind of weird that way that moving house can really mess with our lives. Perfectly understandable, but nevertheless a little strange.
All I have to do is what I used to do but in a different place, it shouldn’t be that hard.
I don’t like to not learn from things. You know, if things are going to happen (and let’s face it, they always do) then I’d like to pick up a tidbit or two to help me through the next instance of stuff going on.
In some ways, I have implemented plenty of learning in the moving of all my things from one place to another, however in others I find myself struggling and bumbling like in every move before.
Physically, I am doing wonderfully and terribly. Eating counts as part of physically, right?
To begin with the things to cheer for: I am walking every day. Every day. This is a wonderful development for me. I have not been able to continue an exercise regime for more than a week or two in years and not since before CRPS have I done this without any sort of physical therapist’s help.
I am not flaring to the point of incapacitation. This is also huge news. I need to pace, I need to spend a lot of time resting and even more time stretching but for the first time since this chronic pain poison seeped into my life, I feel like I am the one in control. I can keep going without reacting to pain, I can push my limits without fearing their glazed ceilings will crumble irreversibly. I have to manage things, I have to manage every part of things, but managing is a whole lot different to feeling forced to avoid.
The weather is effecting me, 30 degrees and sunny one day and raining and 18 degrees the next will do that to a sensitised body, but it’s not melting nor smothering me. Spring might be slowing me down a little, but I don’t really want to be going all that fast anyway.
My mindset has changed. I don’t really understand it yet. I can’t really explain it but it feels…different. Stronger.
I suppose the biggest change is that the pain isn’t stressing me. I don’t feel like it is going to stop me from doing what I need to do on account of there isn’t all that much on my plate that needs eating. All I have to do right now is look after me. Which is quite enough for me, for now.
Which brings us to the thing I am failing at terribly. The eating. I have had so much takeaway and junk food in the past couple of weeks that I feel like my blood must be 50% sugar. I have a pimple on my cheek that is so large I am afraid its going to start using me as its evil puppet. My energy is dwindling day by day and I have been fantasising about salad. Oh yes, you can win this friend with salad alright.
This nutritional wasteland of a diet simply has to stop.
Yesterday my new salad spinner arrived (it’s red and red things are fabulous), which means I can have clean salad that is not drippy, which makes more of a difference to me than perhaps it should. I need things to be simple in the kitchen.
I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out how to work the oven. Pretty sure, but I wouldn’t blame anybody for betting against me on that one. I’m also pretty sure I can remember to put things back in the fridge after using them. Pretty sure, I’ve lost several things to a warm bench since being here. Just…left them out. I have no idea why a lifetime of fridge programming can be interfered with by a simple location adjustment.
Today I will go to the supermarket and buy vegetables. Lots of vegetables. Maybe even some fruit. Then, I will eat the fruit and the vegetables and then life will start to get easier again.
And hey, this little flirtation with my own version of Supersize Me has given me a goal to achieve in my next move, in a couple of months. In the upcoming round, I am going to keep up the physical management and keep a healthy diet.
I am because I say so, and lately I have felt that my word to myself can be a pretty powerful thing to believe in.
Love & Resolutions,