Note to self….

3 12 2013

There’s the Drunken Facebook Posts,  the Texts You Instantly Regret, the Midnight CryFest Phonecalls and then there’s what I did.

First, a bit of a back story…. I have dealt with chronic pain for 20+ years now. I don’t like to talk about it too much, since there is a lot of Advice Givers and Naysayers out there and I have learned to just not say anything when it comes to my health: otherwise I face an onslaught of Granny’s special cure-all potion recipes to me being told that it just might be all in my (obviously crazy) head.

Anyways, I have IBS, which can be crippling when I have pain flares. Fortunately, it has been dormant for a good part of a decade, raising its nasty head rarely. But the last six months and especially the last two weeks, it has been pretty bad. I have been in bed a good majority of the time, sinking into a pit of worry and stress which only compounds my situation. Depression and chronic pain is real, you guys, and I know firsthand that you should never mess around with that shit. (Thank god I have an amazing support group around me, whom I can count on to help me out when I am in it deep. You know who you are, and I can’t thank you enough.)

Anyways, my doctor has prescribed Ativan for severe attacks, when my regular meds don’t cut it. I try to avoid that as much as possible, because:

A) I don’t want to rely on heavy drugs and


So Saturday, I took an Ativan in desperation, as I lay writhing in pain. Under the tongue, that teeny little pill dissolved and worked its magic upon my body. I felt relaxation ebbing through me. As I floated on the couch, all happy and shit, I saw my iPhone beside me…. And a surge… nay, a TIDAL WAVE of love washed through me and I started texting my undying love and complete adoration to all my friends. At some point I passed out and slept like the dead.

I woke the next morning to find several replies.

Most went like this:

“Aw, you’re so sweet. How drunk are YOU? LOL!!!! :-)”

I felt a wee bit abashed, I admit… But then I also thought, hey… It’s always nice to tell people you care about that you love them. In my case it was urged along by my good old pal, Ativan….. that devilishly wonderful relaxant that makes me super dippy. But, oddly, I had no regrets about what I texted to my wonderful friends. Because, you know what? It was ALL true.

In closing…. I love you man. I  mean, I really really love you.

Reconnected and it feels so good….

11 11 2013

There has been some emptiness in my life lately and I have been struggling to define it, to discover the source and to fill it all back up.

Life, this crazy chaotic thing that has this ability to toss us about in a storm of kids soccer games, work, doctor’s appointments, grocery shopping, cooking and cleaning, working out, somehow trying to  make time for everything. Everything! The source of all our ability to at least try to keep up with life is within us. And we know all too well that if we do not give to ourselves then we cannot give to others.

We all get lost in our way of what we feel we need to give ourselves. I started to work out a lot the last couple years, indulging in high intensity interval training and dabbling in Crossfit. And whoa, did I (and do I) ever love it. I love that muscle soreness the next day, I love the end of a workout and being amazed at what my body just did. I loved seeing muscle definition where there was none before. I feel so good about my health and how I look and feel. It’s really an addiction, a very healthy one. Unfortunately for me I have been struggling with a lower back issue for the last four to five weeks that has brought a full screeching stop to my intense workouts. Frustrating to no end, let me tell you. I felt disconnected with my body and my old nemesis of depressive traits that have haunted me for years began whispering in my ears again. I found myself treading into the territory of self-doubt and soul-crushing sadness. I felt ready to cry at the drop of a hat. Stress built up in me: I had days of migraines and my stomach issues flared again. I marched on, missing my old happy self, missing something I could not define. But then one day, I realized that I had truly not been on my yoga mat for months.

Oh, right, I remember now, I said to myself. I unrolled my mat and lit a candle. I sat cross-legged, folded my hands in prayer in front of my heart. I closed my eyes and then I breathed. Long drawn-in breaths and exhales that began to calm me. It was like I hadn’t breathed in weeks. Every cell in my body was shriveled up, but in this feast of oxygen and awareness, they plumped up again. My breath became an ocean of waves, each one bringing a taste of awareness and each outgoing current taking my worries away. I don’t know how long I sat there, breathing. Frankly, it doesn’t matter. When I let my eyes open and allowed the world to saturate back into my mind, I felt lighter. I moved on to a deep yoga practice that left me feeling limber and elongated and completely whole again.

In all my life I have never known a love like I have for this practice of yoga. It makes me a better woman, when I give myself ME. In turn, I am more loving to my husband and my children. I reach out to my friends more readily without judgement. I am more patient at work and in the world. I see more beauty, I laugh more. I am more me when I give myself time on my mat. And I felt so terribly sad that I had let this slip by the wayside. Yoga was like a forgotten friend, patiently waiting for me to pick up the phone and call.

This is not to say I won’t continue to work out as I do. (Hell no…that’s far too much a part of me as well.)  But I deeply believe that we all need to give ourselves some form of quiet reconnection to ourselves, where we can listen to what our soul needs to say. Where we can be quiet and humble and satiated in our breath. Whether it’s a hot bath, a walk in the woods or a yoga practice with meditation, it really doesn’t matter. As long as we give our selves what we truly need. A connection with our own body, mind and soul.