living unwell

Well, that was short-lived.

For the last couple months or so, I’ve been dealing with a whole slew of health issues. I feel like my body is a 2 year old throwing an epic tantrum, chucking everything I offer in an entitled rage. And the roller coaster ride of rejection has been quite the shit-show. Cheers.

I have only half-answers, but no solutions. I have not been at all impressed with my recent care (or lack thereof). In fact, this experience has chipped away what little faith in doctors I had left. I’m just an interesting anomaly turned science project for them. Awesome.

On the other hand, I’ve gained an incredible sense of empathy for those who are suffering quietly. My woes are small compared to those dealing with, say, auto-immune diseases and cancer. But I salute you warriors who get out of bed despite the effort requiring every ounce of will and strength. While I hope never to experience the depth of that kind of pain, I do understand it.

I had a direction for this collection of words, but I can’t remember… I guess I’ll just ramble a bit now.

I’m done with finals and with them, my first semester of grad school. I’m a little disappointed, but I’m also relieved I managed, given the circumstances. It’s a bit of a conflict for me. I bounce between being embarrassed that that was my ‘best effort’ and giving myself a bit of grace.

How strange that the word ‘grace’ came to mind. It’s a concept that has entered a few different facets of my life. It showed up in my journal and in a free-write exercise and in recent tarot draws and even in my food. Perhaps this is a lesson I have yet to learn… to allow myself some grace.

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