With a gentle caress instead of a closed fist
Hello friends,
For more than ten years, I quarreled with a front door that despised closing properly. I had to jiggle the doorknob and press the latch in with my fingers. I slammed it shut over and over again until the latch finally caught. Once, I had to open and close the door so many times, the noise drew a neighbor's attention. He stopped working in his yard and pulled out his phone, ready, I presume, to call the cops on the intruder stupid enough to break into a house in broad daylight. After watching me struggle for a bit and finally head to my car after succeeding, he went back to his yard work.
Finally, after a decade of war with that nightmare, I got a new front door. It's gorgeous on its own, with its textured grain and multi-colored stained glass, but it really shows off in the evening. When the sun sets and shines through that glass, my new door throws rainbows down the whole hallway. They're a nightly reminder that not everything is terrible.
A couple of weeks ago, I stopped taking my stimulant. When I first started taking it, it gave me energy and focus. But slowly, so slowly I didn't realize, the energy and focus turned to anxiety and hypervigilance. Every moment was a new opportunity for disaster, and I had to be ready.
Now, though, with the stimulant out of my system, I'm calm again. My heart rate is lower, my brain relaxed. Fatigue plagues me again, but it's better than being in an unending state of fight or flight. I'm exhausted but at peace.
A friend of mine recently mentioned the outside world's tendency to refer to chronic illness as a battle. They call us warriors and tell us how strong we are for fighting our disease. But chronic illness is a battle that can never be won, and I am tired of fighting. I'm not giving up, though. I'm recognizing that fighting is the wrong approach. What I need to do is listen. So I'm letting my body tell me what it needs. I'm treating it with a gentle caress instead of a closed fist. I'm not at war. I am merely trying to exist.
Shabbat shalom,
Yardena