two weeks in ~
me today ~ 11.15.18
It's been a big few weeks since deciding to turn my life around. Well, maybe it's not really that dramatic, but I have changed quite a few things. I've changed my diet, my ideas around what I can and can't do in my new body, my attitude regarding my health and wellness, and my willingness to dive deeper into some messier old emotions. So yeah, I've basically changed a huge chunk of who I consider myself to be.
It's wild that it's that simple to make changes, isn't it? One day, you just say to yourself, I'm ready.
In reality, the first week was pretty hard. I felt hungry, bloated, and irritable. I was eating more vegetables than I've had since I lived with my parents. No joke. I started weaning off the gluten, sugar, dairy, and caffeine. My stomach lost the bloat. My energy increased. Most importantly, my symptoms (pain, fatigue, and soreness throughout the day) seem to be milder. Oh, and I sleep like a rock.
I have known, for quite some time, that I would undoubtedly feel better, all around, if I were to eat really well. And by 'really well', I don't just mean clean. What I've learned, surprisingly, is that eating like this does not have to feel like punishment. I am somewhat shocked to learn how many amazing dishes I can prepare, simply, without a million ingredients, and yet still manage to stay within the anti-inflammatory guidelines.
And maybe this is why I feel like my entire body is changing. During the first week, I also learned some pretty basic yoga moves I can do daily (thank you sweet neighbor/friend!). By the end of the week, I could reach my arms all the way over my head! I could do some balance moves. I felt as if, for the first time in over a year and a half, I was back in my old body. It was incredible. It gave me a rush of confidence. I felt ready to try the one thing I was afraid I would never be able to do again ~ dance.
Since my diagnosis of MS last spring, I feel like the focus has been on all the limitations I can come to expect. I started feeling like a sickly version of myself. The more I read about MS, the more dis-abled I truly felt. It was as though my world was getting smaller and smaller. My future felt, in many ways, pretty grim. And then I started to remember that this was exactly how I felt at the end of my drinking. I felt scared, isolated, resentful, and lonely. Having already been here before, a lightbulb went off. I remembered what I learned when I first got sober. Alcoholism is but a symptom of the disease. What this means is that there are root causes that must be untangled before one can ever hope to get a handle on the disease.
What if I treated my MS the same way? As if it were but a symptom of my unbalanced health/wellness? This I can do. This makes more sense to me. I can look at EVERY part of my life and decide where to change things, what to let go of, and how to walk through it more courageously. I got to this new understanding with some serious help from having read Radical Remission and watching the documentary Heal. I had to remember that I am one complete and divinely designed organism. My body wants homeostasis. If I keep thinking (and telling myself) that I am sick, then I will stay sick. This doesn't just happen with my mind, it happens with how I feel in my skin. How I decide what I physically can or can no longer do. Which is why I decided to try taking a dance class, even though the idea also scared me to death.
I went to a NIA technique class. I have taken these classes on and off since the early 90's. I love the funky world beat music, the way the teachers seem to actually care for their students, and the freedom to interpret the moves to work better for one's own body. I spoke briefly with the teacher, feeling an odd sense of obligation to warn her of my limitations, but once the music started and the other students began feeling the rhythm, it was as if my pain level dulled. I was able to participate in the entire class. Sure, there were times when I had to slow down my pace, change a few things, but I was there! I was dancing with others again ~ and it was incredible. Ironically, I didn't experience any additional soreness or pain afterwards at all. I was anticipating that I wouldn't be able to move for days, but instead, I felt more alive and in my body than I have in nearly two years.
When I think about what health and wellness mean to me, I remember the racer speed I was maintaining prior to my diagnosis. I was just another person doing way too much. I used to fantasize about having two of me, just to get everything done. I never had enough time in the day. I was always rushing. I didn't feed myself well, I didn't sleep enough, and my stress was amped up by all the caffeine I consumed to keep going. I am not surprised at all that I got sick. So how to change all this?
My meditation practice has become the foundation for a good day. I don't know exactly how it works, but for now, I don't care. It works. It slows my reactions down. I breathe deeper. I am more likely to take better care of myself and others when I meditate. Health and wellness also includes simple activities like morning walks. Making art. Doing yoga. Cooking homemade meals for my family. And perhaps of most importance, lots of water and deep, solid sleep.
The final part of all this change is the emotional messy stuff. I've been seeing a counselor for a little while now, and I look forward to our appointment every week. There is something magical in being able to unpack one's emotions with the care and guidance of a practitioner. I shared with her a few weeks ago that I'm finally ready to pull apart some of the harder parts of my life. I want to let go of some old sorrow, anger, and resentment that I haven't felt ready to deal with.
I know this won't be an overnight fix. It's taken some time and doing to get where I am today, so I expect it will take a good amount of time to restore my health. I don't know if I will become one of the fortunate ones who is able to put her disease into remission forever, but I'm ready to give it my all.
*important side note: I have never been the most talented of dancers, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that I remembered who I am, in my core, when I danced. I felt free and alive. And that's worth making changes for.
