sometimes having a good day is worse than having a bad one. now meg, that doesn't sound rational! but here's the thing- when i'm having a good day, it's such a treat. i get drawn in to feeling a bit normal, i start to remember what it is like. i'm able to make breakfast, go on a walk, and do a few chores- without my body screaming in protest or requiring a nap in between. so when it's taken away again, it's such a disappointment, it can be quite crushing actually. sometimes i feel like it's almost not worth it. and i did have a string of good days this past week- spurred by a session of reiki on thursday, and chair yoga on friday. my mind tricked my body into thinking it was capable of doing extra activities, and i was pushing myself further and harder. shocking, i know, b/c that is so unlike me. but as usual, i paid for it. when my obnoxious alarm started ringing from my cell, i knew it was going to be a difficult day. let me try to explain what this feels like. take exhaustion, and push it deep into your bones, all the way down. then wrap a rubber band around your ankle, looping it around and around until the circulation is cut off to your feet. finally, strap a 15 pound dumbbell to your arms, submerge yourself in 10 feet of water and walk the length of the pool.
but back to this morning. the plan was to leave for church at 10:10 (it being palm sunday, odds were the attendance would be higher- that turned out to be a very correct assumption), which left me with over two hours to shower, get dressed, and all the girly things that come in between. i used to be an expert at this little dance- i could wake up at 7:15 and be out the door in suit and heels, on the parkway by 7:45... 7:50 if i made coffee for the ride. but everything takes so much longer, and i guess i'm not as aware of that as i should be by now. well, this morning's events sure smacked that realization across my face.
showering in itself takes at least twice as long. i can't just hop in stall and turn on the hot water. (i could, but i'd probably break a leg, if not a hip.) you wouldn't think sitting down in the shower would slow the process down so much, but give it a whirl sometime.(btw this has made me even more anal about clean bathrooms than i already was. take this opportunity to look in your bathtub- would you want to sit down in there? mmm-hmmm.) luckily mom had the patience to dry my hair- a process i can be very particular about doing in a certain way. i had chosen a simple black wrap dress that wouldn't pose any difficulties in dressing- no buttons, snaps or zippers. makeup always proves especially challenging, as the tremors just seem to multiply whenever fine movement is involved. putting on mascara risks coating my cornea with black gook- eyeliner? that could take out an eyeball. but i managed to put on a pretty good face- acceptable for the church crowd ;) all that was left was slipping on my shoes and grabbing a purse. i was so close to being ready- this close. then it all fell apart.
my legs and feet have been abnormally swollen the past 2 weeks (mom measured my ankle the other day- 10 1/2" around! seriously, they're like hillary clinton-esque cankles!), but i knew it was a bad sign when i couldn't pull the pantyhose over my ankles. but after some struggling (and choice words) i did manage to shove my feet through the hose, and grabbed my sassy leopard print flats from their chosen place in the closet. but "slipping in" to the shoes wasn't working out so well. my feet were too swollen to go in without a fight- finally i was able to force them into the shoes, but when i went to take a step, my circulation almost cut off. my feet were beet red through the pantyhose, my skin bulging out the sides of the adorable flats- i fell backwards onto my bed in pain. at this point, i was shaken. i was done. i was exhausted from it all- the shower, the hair drying, the flat iron, the makeup, the pantyhose, the shoes, all of it.
but suddenly it was 10:10, then 10:15- dad was already in the car, mom was hovering around saying "I told you to get ready earlier- you don't give yourself enough time. I knew this would happen." i was able to fish out some loose, suede black boots from the back of my closet, and shoved (and pleaded) my throbbing feet into the boots, praying i'd be able to walk down the steps and out the door. by then, with my entire body gone into freakout mode, it really took everything i had not to slam my bedroom door and crawl back under the covers. but i didn't, and i was able to negotiate my way downstairs. unfortunately, once i was in the car and headed down market street, my issues didn't stop. my dress had come untied- and this being a wrap dress, that could be a bit of a problem. (think janet jackson/superbowl scandal.) the seat belt wasn't cooperating, and i couldn't get the strap loose enough to retie the dress underneath my heavy coat. (damn that safety feature of keeping you from flying out the windshield during potential impact.) and then i couldn't get my earrings in- my fingers were shaking too much to make contact with the hook/clasp. in haste, i practically ripped my right earlobe off.
trembling, i finally managed to swap my glasses for my over sized prescription black sunglasses, aka undercover hollywood starlet, and attempted to calm down. but i was still shaking when we got into the sanctuary, which was of course filled to capacity. in addition to the children that were literally spilling out of the entrance (they were preparing to do the whole palm thing), it was also girl scout sunday, and little green and brown uniforms were running all over the place. we were going to have to split up, which i knew was only going to further irritate mom. climbing over an elderly couple, we squeezed into a row in the back of the church, leaving dad to fend for himself. (he was probably perfectly content with this- lol!) but even the traditions of sunday service didn't work to comfort me like they usually do, the softly spoken words of the apostles creed and the singing voices of the doxology didn't work to sooth my mind. i was still a mess, so i popped a valium to try to calm the tremors. unfortunately, the valium makes me a bit sleepy, so now i was struggling just to stay awake, or at least vertical, for the entire service. feeling like i did, that was a huge achievement.
after the acc finals, and securing our 2nd straight acc championship, i was able to send my exhausted self to my room for some much needed coma time. of course this was completely against my scheduled sleep rules, but i didn't give a damn. (shhh, don't tell on me!) i was too tired, sore, and drained to feel guilty (which is rare! i'm always feeling guilty about something- which is somewhat unfair considering i never do anything exciting or scandalous enough to warrant guilt!) after a 3 hour nap, i'm feeling more like myself again, although my body feels like it was put through the spin cycle in a washing machine. i know that it is better to acknowledge the frustrations that come with a bad day instead of repressing it, and letting it eat you up inside. (trust me, i've been through enough therapy and taken enough psychology courses in my day.) but the thing is, it's the mere fact that i'm frustrated by these small challenges that gets to me. they're so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, and it makes me feel like a shallow wimpy person to even complain about them. so now, not only am i frustrated by the problems themselves, but i'm frustrated by my own frustration! aaaaaaaaughhhhhhhh! it's this cycle of guilt and irritation that goes round and round and round again.
well, that's all the crazy i have time for. i have to get back to repressing my feelings of guilt and inadequacy. hah!
remember, you can view these postings directly on kit katchat's blog
http://meggerv2.blogspot.com/
http://meggerv2.blogspot.com/
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