Today’s my birthday!
I’ve been experiencing a gnarly chronic illness flare-up recently. I had two sets of birthday plans — one with friends, one with family, both low-key — and I canceled both. Socializing would absolutely drain me right now and feel more unpleasant than pleasant. Plus, I’m so sensitive to so many foods at the moment, eating in a restaurant or having a slice of cake isn’t worth the risk.
I’m not saying this to throw myself a pity party instead of a birthday party. I’m saying it because it’s my current reality, and I want this newsletter to be an honest account of my experiences living in my body.
In the past, I would’ve thrown the pity party. I would’ve moped around and felt sorry for myself about how restricted and sad my life is and how much chronic illness sucks and how unfair it is that I have to cancel my (already pared-down, very chill!) plans.
That, or I would’ve forced myself to carry out the plans anyway, which would’ve worsened the flare, then I would’ve thrown the pity party afterward. Either way, I would’ve been sad and angry, and I would’ve channeled that sadness and anger into vitriolic thoughts toward my body.
But right now, I’m actually happy. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my back and hips hurt, there’s a weird, throbbing pain in my left buttocks that my anxious mind keeps thinking could be due to a blood clot, and I just feel bad.
Yet I’m happy. I never thought this level of peace would be available to me in the midst of physical suffering. For about 20 years, I thought I needed to get rid of the suffering in order to feel peace and happiness. But I was wrong.
I’m happy not despite my suffering, but because of my new approach to it. I’m happy, because this sudden flare is providing evidence that my mental reframing efforts are actually working. Meaning, I see the progress I’ve made: I’ve learned to genuinely value process over outcome, not just give lip service to it. I’ve continued listening to my body instead of trying to control it, even during a trying time. I made a commitment to my body, and I’m keeping it. Realizing I’m keeping it brings me joy and peace.
The other night, I felt terrible. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say the night involved a lot of tossing and turning, mad dashes to the bathroom, very little sleep, and anxiety over whether or not I should wake someone up and ask them to drive me to the ER. (Thankfully I improved, no ER visit needed).
And I am just so happy and proud of myself for how I handled that hard night (and the hard days that preceded and followed it).
I lay in bed hugging myself, caressing my own arms lovingly, mentally talking to my body, telling her that I love her, that I’m here for her no matter what, that I’m so so sorry she’s feeling this bad all of a sudden, that I am with her and will stay present, giving her whatever she needs without argument or compromise, and that I will never, ever again abandon her (like I did in similar situations in the past), avoid her bids for my attention, or try to ignore her suffering ever again.
I did not criticize my body for “ruining” my night of sleep (or my workweek and, by extension, my month’s budget). I did not insult my body for not performing the way I would’ve liked or for having extreme symptoms for reasons I couldn’t pinpoint. I didn’t bombard her with resentment, anger, frustration, or fear.
Instead, I loved her. I trusted she was doing what she was doing to protect me. And I tended to her with care and fondness.
I gave my body plenty of water. I got out ice packs and a heating pad. I took the pills that sometimes help in these moments. I played a soothing guided meditation. I massaged my face, jaw, neck, and shoulders. I cuddled with my dog. I wrote in my journal. I made the judgment call to cancel my birthday plans and take a few days off of work. I went back to sleep at the time I had originally planned on waking up and accepted that I wouldn’t be doing any of the things I had been planning on doing that day. Every step of the way, I lovingly told her things like, I’m doing this for you, and I’ll do anything for you.
And I’m still loving her. I’m tearing up as I type this, because having a genuine loving, close relationship with my body is the best birthday gift I ever could’ve asked for. This relationship is more precious to me than all the restaurant meals, cake slices, social gatherings, and perfectly-adhered-to budgets and sleep schedules in the world. There’s no contest. And so, it’s a happy birthday.
🎶 A few days ago,
posted an extra newsletter on her birthday, in honor of her birthday, and I immediately knew I’d be copying her idea. Which means that whether you loved, hated, or felt something in-between about this newsletter, you can thank her. :)🐠 Melissa Carroll, aka “the yoga writer” (I am so fond of that moniker! So simple, yet so accurate!), recently shared recordings and meditations about Pisces season on her Patreon. As a Pisces who knows almost nothing about astrology, I really enjoyed listening to them on two of my more difficult recent mornings. I am a patron (and recommend you become one too!), but one of the recordings is available even to those who aren’t. Also, they are geared toward everyone, not just people whose birthdays are in Pisces season.
This is really beautiful, Jay. What a gift... and thank you for sharing your healing journey with us. We have so much to learn from this experience with self-care, self-compassion, and self-trust.
Happy birthday!! I love this focus on you loving your body in this new era. I'm all about. And you know I love Melissa and will have to check out her thoughts on Pisces!!! A perfect intersection of everything I could ever want.