Today marks the 11th year of my getting the virus that triggered M.E. — 13 years total of living with chronic illness.
And I feel really good right now, emotionally. Like I’m doing everything possible to ensure my body will function its best for as long as it can. I sleep enough, eat well, get proper nutrition with lots of what I need and still have things I enjoy, like ice cream. I drink a lot of water, supplement for my genetic things and muscle dysfunction with the appropriate foods and pills, but have medicine to reduce the inflammation. I also take what I need to help out my neurotransmitters, and manage severe pain. My feet get massage to slow the neuropathy. I get whatever exercise I can without causing disease progression.
I do tai chi to balance my energy and improve my strength, balance, and muscle tone. (ETA: It took me a long, long time to realize, but this was a bad idea. I thought it was gentle enough to not cause relapse, but after the THIRD time I found myself worsened for weeks or months after a week of very, very gentle tai chi, I figured out it was the tai chi.) I do stretches, and walk, and a very small amount of yoga (just the poses I enjoy). Spiritual fulfillment is number one in my life and sets the stage for everything else.
I like taking care of myself. My eyes, my teeth, my skin. It can be a chore on some days–and during some seasons, most days–but I enjoy it.
So many years were spent in a battle against my own body, trying to take care of it even as I pumped my blood full of toxic medications to fight the infections that were trying to survive within me. And because of that, I’m still here. Ironically, they’re still here, too.
But that season of my life has passed, and now, it feels so good to just take care of me, to really take care of me, and know that everything I put into my body and do for it is going to help it do its best for me (which in turn, is the best for others, also). Because that’s all I have left. I love the amount of self-compassion I’ve been able to cultivate and harvest, not just in the past few years in general but since being off of Lyme disease treatment in particular. There’s something about not having to focus on pathogen elimination that’s very conducive to self-love. Even as any or all of my diseases advance, I’m not “losing the fight” in any way.
It’s amazing after all these years, even with all of my symptoms, to finally not be at war with my body.
What do you do for your body that makes you feel good about taking care of it, so that it can take care of you to the best of its ability? How do you help it along?
♥ a rainbow at night