For the past couple weeks my life has been so busy that I've felt like I might crack in two. Weekends spent with not one, not two, but sometimes three and four social commitments; work days crammed full of meetings, lunches and actual work; evenings filled with chores, classes, homework, writing, and sometimes abridging, I feel outside myself these days because I'm not used to the frenetic pace of it all. Even with catching that bad cold a couple weeks ago, my life refused to slow down, with the sickness sort of evaporating itself up inside another busy day complete with brain fog instead of real rest.
And then last night I kind of had a break through. I was at my Pilates Fusion class, a combination of pilates and yoga taught through Liberty-Movement Studio in Liberty Village. Over the last two weeks it's just been me in my class, so I've been getting somewhat private lessons from Elle, who is a magnificent teacher. She tailored the workout to me, with a lot of hip-openers, to try and get at the permanent problems with my tragic hip, and wow, did we ever hit a nerve. I started to cry. In class. While lunging. Sniffling like a baby. Tears. Rolling down my face. Elle said it was because muscles have memory, and they were releasing their scar tissue. But goodness, it was a freeing kind of feeling, as if my body, little by little, with the biking, the pilates, the yoga, the dancing, is finally recognizing the toll the disease has taken and decided to let it all go in one big breath last night.
Regardless, I'm calmer today. I'm letting the quickness of it all kind of wash over me and work through my to-do lists carefully, with as little stress as possible. And will ride my bike slowly home tonight after dance class as if I don't have a care in the world. I'm frustrated, still, that I can't lose any weight, but I'm guessing that it's probably just another thing my body doesn't want to let go, hanging on to the disease for dear life because it's existed in that state for so many years, it just doesn't know how else to be.
But I'm slowly learning that change doesn't happen overnight as much as I'd like it to. Funny how it doesn't take long at all to contemplate change, to even make the decision to change, but it takes a hell of a long time to put your thoughts into actions and actually see the results.
Girl with titanium hip will rock. Girl with titanium hip will write. Girl with titanium hip will read. Girl with titanium hip will battle crazy-ass disease called Wegener's Granulomatosis. Now stuff that in your spelling bee!
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6 comments:
Ahhhh...
big hugs.
:)
Those cries that come on unexpectedly and are BIG ones? They do help.
I've been taught in various classes to "be kind" to my body. It's a concept I hadn't ever considered before - but it does help.
Take care.
This reminds me of another post by another book blogger. Bloglily's Saying Farewell to Illness. A year later and I still have that post saved.
Wow. That is an exceptional, moving and accurate post. Thank you so much for pointing me in its direction.
Aww, that's so nice honey. Sounds like your body was waiting to exhale and then did!
crying is really a relief and crying itself is connected to so many emotions for me. I am a male so maybe it is even more taboo to cry for a man ?
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