notes from the future: 2:28am in amsterdam
today's "flourish friday" is a rambling of thoughts from living with an invisible disease, loving-kindness when it's hard, and inner child healing at a concert
*cover photo by Slava Stupachenko on Unsplash*
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It's nearly 6:30am here in Amsterdam, and I'm so hungry. I'm counting down the minutes until the breakfast buffet at my hotel opens. Even though I've tried to eat, it's safe to say that no food is left in my body. It feels like someone has stomped me out; I'm achy and dragging. Yet, this is the best I've felt in days, and I'm incredibly grateful for that.
I've probably gone to the doctor more in these past three years since my rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis than I ever have in my life. It's been costly in a variety of ways, not just financially. Having an invisible disease makes it easy for others, doctors included, to second-guess you. To question if you're actually feeling what you're feeling or if it's in your head. Unfortunately, I've had it happen way too often, and it's impressive how easily other people's disbelief can lead you to feel like maybe it is all in your head.
In one of my most recent therapy sessions, we talked about the impact of trauma on the body. As I've shared with my therapist before, it upsets me to think the current state of my body is a response to all the things I've experienced, even the things I had no control over. I try not to beat myself up for how I feel, for how my body sometimes deteriorates at a moment's notice. I try to be gentle with it when sometimes I want to scream to the heavens, "I'm only 33!! Why is this happening?" But talking to myself like this doesn't really do any good, does it? If anything, it only further pushes me into despair and worry.
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