Yesterday, I took a much needed break. I pretty much stayed on the couch all day and crocheted. I wound up frogging a lot of what I had crocheted, but at least I enjoyed myself. I did some beginner’s yoga for flexibility, did some laundry, and binged on “Versailles”.
Today, I got outside and started planting stuff in pots: tomatoes, peppers, and lavender were on my to-plant list. I got tomatoes and peppers (jalapeno, Tabasco, Serrano, and multi-colored bell) done before I ran out of spoons and had to come inside to sit.
I’m sitting here feeling every single day of my decades spent on this planet. I was feeling them yesterday, too; I can’t stretch like I used to stretch. I’m not feeling sorry for myself or anything; I’m just feeling old and tired.
I probably wouldn’t be feeling so old and tired if I had been kinder to my body in the past, and if I hadn’t gotten so LAZY since I quit being a stagehand.
Good news: some of this is totally fixable. Now, do I think I’ll once again be able to pull of some of the contortionist-lite shit I could do in my 20s? Likely not.
However, I can make my days more pleasant. I have utterly failed at my March monthly goal of self-care. Mostly. I did figure out what was keeping me sick (mold), and dealt with it. Bonus points for using vinegar to deal with it instead of bleach or other chemicals (more eco-friendly cleaning was another goal).
In keeping with the self-care goal, I have swapped out the Pilates for some beginner’s yoga for flexibility, in hopes of starting to stretch the muscles that are giving me fits WITHOUT causing them to give me fits. I’m enjoying it as much as the Pilates, if not better, so I’m counting that one as a win.
I’m having to come to terms with aging in ways I hadn’t considered before. I have long appreciated the wisdom that comes with my age; I just never realized how much everything would fucking hurt. It doesn’t help that I am aging with a chronic illness and chronic pain. It’s forcing me to deal with it, on an emotional level, pretty quickly. I mean, when reality slaps me in the face as hard as it has the last week or two, it creates a mental crisis of sorts; denial just ain’t working because my body keeps saying
YOU’RE NOT CLEOPATRA, DENIAL ISN’T THE NAME OF A RIVER YOU IDIOT
Which means I’m already dreading work this weekend, which is robbing me of today.
All of this whining and ranting makes me realize how grateful I am for my 12 step recovery. I understand that these feelings shall pass, all I have to do is ride them out. I understand that there are solutions to the problems I’m having; Hell, I can remember a time when I wished I had the kind of problems I’m having right now.
So thank you for listening as I scream into the void. Now, I’m off to rest a bit before I head outside to finish planting stuff in pots. Because I’m excited about the lavender I want to plant.