I know I’m pissing my poor husband off…he hates it when I’m on the computer whilst he is in the room. If I wanted him to pay attention to me, all I have to do is sit down, relax and get down with my pc-he will appear out of nowhere. In 1995, he time travelled while hunting in Idaho…
“Are you on the fucking computer????!!!!,” he said to me, during a five minute conversation, from his chalet in Island Park.
Anyhooser, I digress. I want to personally and publicly thank those of you who have reached out to me after yesterday’s blog, in which I pretty much fell apart in front of my beloved audience, as small as it may be. I believe it to have been a small cry for help, and your love and support means everything, everything to me.
There are many aspects to Lyme disease, involving many different issues, symptoms and manifestations. I find it challenging to take the mood swings in addition to my anxiety and depression. And with each new round of antibiotics-the doxycycline, a gift from God-the game is different than the time before; stages intermix, and I am once again baffled at the incredible ways in which Abba brings us close to Him-reigns us in like the loving, all knowing father that he is: now and for eternity. I have it on pretty good authority that if Jesus wants to get your attention? Well, he will move mountains to do so. In an obsessive-compulsive drive to keep my house clean, hike and garden, care for my animals, volunteer and attend an exercise class twice a week-I was not shocked when the Holy Spirit spoke to me this morn, telling me it wouldn’t have to be this way if I took better care of myself.
See-I am in denial when it comes to my disabilities, or any limitations whatsoever. I just push through each day until I can push no longer. So, I know He will not waste our time together-I hope to truly learn to care for myself this time. Eat breakfast, slow down, treat yourself as you would a loved one. Eat the ice cream. Wear the new shoes. Sleep in until the dog can’t take another minute…make it a daily practice. Rinse and repeat.
So, this morning? I couldn’t take missing one more exercise class-it had been two weeks and I could hear what little muscle I have gained-I could hear it turning to flab. I wasn’t feeling well enough to attend, and the longer I missed, the harder it was to go back.
As I grabbed my bag to head out the door, I asked Dwain to please feed the dog. He works from home in the morning, and said he had “things to do.” I gave him the sweet mother Mary and all of the angels and saints, I haven’t done a thing for myself in months and I am going to this class so help me Mother Theresa look.
Delores, our fearless leader and sweetest woman alive, was pulling in just as I parked. I teased her about her parking skills, and we shared easy laughter. I explained why I hadn’t been around, and she soothed my soul by her words of comfort and care. Twenty of the best women I know filed in to the church.
Amidst the greetings, I hear Delores announcing to the class that I had a new Lyme diagnoses.
“She needs hugs.”
And then it began-the tremendous outpouring of love and concern. These women know the girl code. They are older, wiser and not prone to vanity or snarky competition. They have seen a thing or two that left their heart in shambles. They know what matters in life.
And as I tripped over the volley ball, and slid across the newly waxed gym floor? I laughed out loud.
I laughed until I cried.