Did not eat gluten all day, I was tired from work but not in too much pain. Had a burger and fries for dinner. The bun was a regular white hamburger bun, the fries have some sort of coating. Within two hours I developed moderate to severe joint pain, itchy skin, some sneezing.
So I shared this meme today on my Facebook page. An acquaintance asked why do it then, as in why hate my body. I answered that I can’t help it sometimes. I’ve waxed all philosophical about it and decided I needed to write an actual blog post about it. As the title alludes to, there is a lot of fear and loathing involved in my relationship with my body. It’s never been an overly healthy thing. That’s the toss up for hopping out of the womb three months early and surviving, I guess. I caught pneumonia for the first time at one week old. For all the sickness I had as a child, none of it was a disability. My body generally worked, my immune system was just crappy. I think I was seven or eight the first time my knees started to ache. Younger for the first angry colon/bladder incidents. It still wasn’t until I was thirteen or fourteen where things really started to fall apart. I remember trying out for track and field at my new elementary school, having just moved to Surrey. As I sprinted across the field, fully expecting my legs to piston as always regardless of pain, the first real fear moment struck. It didn’t hurt a lot, my knee just refused to take my weight, and into the gravel I went. It would take a few years of debilitating knee pain for the loathing to start. When your body hurts every day, for no particular reason, you eventually start feeling pissy with it. This acquaintance, like a lot of people who don’t live with chronic pain, says I always have a choice in how I view my body. In reality, I really don’t. Chronic illness and pain do a number on the brain chemistry. So while sometimes I can pull myself out of the more, a lot of the time I can’t.
I’ve been feeling awful, as my lack of posts usually indicates. I’m still feeling awful but answering a concerned email from a dear friend reminded me how therapeutic writing is. So I’m pretty much forcing myself to write this.
Spring is here, officially and otherwise, which means all sorts of pain for me. The fluctuating barometer and temperature means very stiff and painful joints. The pollen levels are also epic, ’tis the season of allergy meds and ventolin. I love this season but my body does not. Hands, forearms, elbows, shoulders, spine, hips, and right foot are all bad. Fibro is still flaring it’s ugly head. The stress is high.
Anxiety is running hot and hard, and in none of the good ways that can be thought up. Went from twenty to fourty mg’s of Paxil. Been smoking a lot of cigarettes which really does not help anything but old habits die hard when not well. Taking that one moment at a time right now. I’ve also been gorging on junkfood but not doing so well in the proper food department. Not drinking nearly enough water either. Note to self and all. I want to go mostly gluten free again and more vegetarian fare. Will be working on this.
I am bone tired. I want to go to the beach. I want to go camping.
Signing off for now.