Ok. I'm going to start today's post off with a little background on where I'm at right now, in relation to my husband's illness. My husband has psoriatic arthritis.
psoriatic arthritis description He's had it since (before) we were married, although we didn't know or have that diagnosis until recently (a year, maybe two?). Since getting the diagnosis, things have definitely changed. Before, he and I were always optimistic we'd find something natural to heal us, or him (but me, too, because my anxiety and insomnia problems are extensive and go back to my young childhood days). Before the diagnosis there was hope that it could be cured. Now. Well, now we know this is as good as he'll ever be (if no cures or magic treatments appear, we do keep hoping
medical nanobots will become a reality soon). From here on out, he can only get worse, but he cannot get better. As the disease makes his body (specifically his joints) attack themselves. Degeneration is a bitch. So we went from being hopeful to being in that state you get in when hope seems to dissipate rapidly as the reality of the situation and the future sinks in. I've also had to come to terms with my own medical issues. Fighting all these debilitating illnesses has been rough.
But as always with struggle comes a sense of survival. For a long time we were merely "surviving" our issues. My husband may always be there. And by surviving I mean we went from home cooking our nightly meals with at least one vegetable to literally just serving up whatever was easiest, and most of the time that meant ordering out. So my issues have become worse with the apathy, lethargy, and addiction to sugary and processed foods. I won't speak for my husband. I just know that I plummet downhill quickly when I'm not feeding my cells properly.
I've gained weight. Probably not as much as I think. But enough that I'm uncomfortable in most of my clothes. I start to self hate at a severe level when I get to a certain point. Not this time. I GET why I've "let myself go" this time. It has SUCKED. But something amazing happened Monday night. I took my middle child to her gymnastics class, which I hate going to because it is a gym packed full with kids, and tiny bleachers for all of the parents and siblings to sit and wait on. It is crowded full of people who have had a full day of work and antsy children who are tired of sitting still. Not my "happy place". Ever. After her class we were getting ready to leave and ran into a girl who had been there during my middle child's first gymnastics class. It had been awhile since I'd seen her. She looks up at me, took awhile for her to recognize me, and said,
"Oh hi! It's been DAYS since I've seen you! You got old."
I knew as soon as I saw this sweet little girl who always liked me because I would sit with her and play an Ipad game where we decorated finger nails over, and over, and over, and then over again, that she was alarmed by something in my appearance. Maybe it is my rampant acne? (I have been ravaged with horrific acne since my adulthood, and it has gotten far worse since I've been pregnant, and then even after having had the babies. It just doesn't lighten up. And I'm a picker. OCD-ish. It's an anxious habit that at first gives me a sense of comfort. But the after math is usually devastating to my self esteem.) Maybe it is the dark circles? Maybe it's that my hair has gotten so dull and lifeless, when it used to be my main thing I was complimented on? Maybe it's the weight gain? It's probably all of those things combined. But it worked. Sometimes a sweet, innocent child can hit you with a reality check that adults are tactful enough to not bring up. When I got home from gymnastics that night I was greeted by a cranky husband. He's cranky a lot these days. Because he's hurting 100% of the time. And when I say hurting, it's not the kind of hurting you or I feel. It's a DEBILITATING pain that is literally relentless. We are still trying to find the right medicine to help him. Anyway, he was sour that night. And when he's sour, it's almost impossible to have a conversation with him because he's the most opinionated man I know. And smart. Reallllllllyyyyyy smart. And he can word everything to sound reasonable, even if you know it's not. And I'm a confrontation avoider!! At ALL costs. But is my marriage too high a cost? YES. YES IT IS. So I've been mindful about that a lot in the past year. It really isn't his fault I don't find the backbone often enough to be able to communicate my point of view clearly. (Also the PMDD and anemia has made it nearly impossible to keep ANY train of thought, so I could never properly argue back. And let's face it, a couple HAS HAS HAS to be able to constructively bicker and argue things out if the relationship is to succeed!) So my mindfulness and probably the extra little bit of clarity really helped me out that night. To be honest, right now I forget what we even argued about. What I DO recall is standing my ground on my point of view, and the feeling of empowerment that surged through my blood stream. We ended up resolving whatever the issue was, no hard feelings. It did NOT ruin my night. I was ready to let go, in a good way. I was ready to face the confrontation like a strong woman who is sure of her value. I've not been able to provide myself (or him) that very much throughout our 10 years together. And DAMN it felt GOOD to be a gangsta. (At least that's how I felt that night!)
So after a 6 year old told me I looked old, and I stood up to my husband with confidence and compassion (well, maybe the compassion came later?!??), I felt a renewed sense of
"I can DO this! I am strong enough! I am important enough! I AM strong! I CAN change! I cannot believe how much I am growing! Seriously, I needed BOTH of those things to happen in exactly the order and timeline that they did. Because the combination of the two is what has prompted me to truly find my own voice, my own way of being true to myself, and my confidence to do a few things alone. For me.
So here I am. Still fighting off daily sinus or tension headaches, lethargy, lack of motivation, feelings of "what's the point?", staring into the chaotic mess our house has YET AGAIN become. But not losing my hope! Knowing I can do things to help myself. And in turn, that will help my loved ones! But I have to keep my focus on ME. I can't get better for my husband, or just for my kids. I HAVE to get better because I believe I deserve that and that I can accomplish it all by myself.
That is some background. I have plans. I have already told myself to not get down on myself when those plans don't turn out in the way I was hoping, or even when I can't stick to my own goddammed goals. It's OK. I'm OK. I will be OK. And my journey is OK! It is MY journey. And I will take over the drivers seat, thank you very much!
{This is me. Today. I have on foundation and powder. But I would normally not post this because I'm quite self conscious about my acne. But this is me. And I am good enough.}
