Inviting My Inner Critics To A Tea Party = Courageous Living

I have decided to make friends with the Critical Voices in my head. I imagine inviting them all for tea and a round table chat—welcoming them in instead of automatically shutting the door in their faces, which is what my defense-mechanism gut is urging me to do.

I will let them know that I have invited them over to listen to and hear the value in what they have to tell me, observations they may have after years of “hanging around” my life. But that I will also accept these words with conditions. I honor and respect myself enough now to do so.

Historically, these voices have presented themselves in un-helpful ways:

• They speak in black and white; they tend to have no “grey zone.”
• They show up as voices of reason, which can be confusing. But instead of “You’re not ready yet; maybe later.” I am ready to shift their thinking to:  “You may not be ready right this moment, but let’s see how we can get you  there.”
• They can be repetitive. We know, intuitively, that they are irrational, but their persistency can be deceiving.
• The more we resent these voices, the more they gain power over us. But when we try to form a healthy relationship with them, space opens up; for more kindness, love, compassion and understanding– for ourselves and others (we all have these inner critics).

So, let’s start with an example. It’s a biggie, for me:

My Critic often tells me: “You won’t be able to achieve (or even begin to attempt) this desired dream/goal of yours, until you are physically better. Until then, it’s unrealistic to push forward with this endeavor. It will only be frustrating and create overall, unnecessary distractions in your life.”

I am now going to respond differently to this old introject of fear and negativity:
“I can tell your intention is loving. But the majority of your words are simply untrue. And all they serve by my believing them, is for me to sit and wait for this far off ‘perhaps I’ll be better future.’ Or even more detrimental, they have convinced me to believe that I am not good enough, complete enough, whole enough. Now. As is.”

Then I am going to reframe this original feed-back:
“You have shared some useful information with me. But a more loving and helpful way of speaking it would be …”

“I can see that you have some exciting dreams and desires right now and that your physical limitations have created an impediment to you achieving these goals. So instead of ‘waiting to get well’ I would like to lovingly point out some valuable ways you can achieve your goals: you cannot continue to go this alone. What support, physical and mental, can you access and/or welcome into your life to help you make attainable and doable steps towards your goal? What modifications need to be made to your overall goals so that you can set yourself up for success instead of failure?”

And, here’s the miraculous thing, once I made space for this critical voice in my life, I opened up my heart in new and expansively loving ways. Suddenly I was seeing possibilities instead of roadblocks! And my Inner Judges switched from being critical to critically thinking.

I realize I’ve let this repetitive Critical Voice begin to re-define who I am, and even more so, who I am not (or not capable of being). Constantly telling me what I cannot do, until X, Y and Z happen… until all of my cosmic stars align!

I think we can all relate to this on some level. For we all have Inner Critics. And many have become life-long roommates, hogging up head space since as far back as childhood. Yet, we try to get rid of or ignore these inner voices instead of integrating them.

Kate Swoboda says, “In truth, your Critic is your ‘best friend, with lousy communication skills.’” They are the scared wounded parts of ourselves that deserve compassion instead of distaste.

I, who doesn’t see myself fundamentally as a black and white thinker, had become one. I truly began to embrace these Critic’s voices as my own- as my one true voice- until the point where I thought I was doing myself a service instead of a disservice by listening to and heeding their messages.

They caused me to re-write my story: because my body isn’t currently equipped to truly meet my goals, “reaching for the stars” just isn’t in my current repertoire.

Believing that whole “lower my expectations, so I don’t set myself up for disappointment.” But all this has served is to create disappointment. In life. In my body. In Myself. Leading to resentment.

Yet, what I learned through an amazing workshop called “Your Courageous Purpose,” by Molly K. Larkin is that these critical voices can and do serve a purpose.

Listening to them, welcoming them to my round-table, has opened me up to hearing what’s really going on. How I really feel about the situation; allowing all the big, ugly feelings in first like anger and sadness, before the healing can begin. And then creating some solution-oriented, forward-focused thinking.

So, let’s boil it down to the basics:

• My body has physical limitations.
• I do not know when, or even if, this will ever change.
• Waiting for things to change or “get better” isn’t working. IE: it isn’t serving me or my highest good.
• In the past, when I have reached out to others or openly welcomed their offers of help and support, I have been able to achieve unimaginable goals and dreams, in spite of my physical impediments.

So instead of the “wait and see approach,” wouldn’t it be more beneficial to ask myself some critical questions:

• What do my current goals and dreams look like? Feel like?
• What are some modifications I could make that would allow them to be more manageable? How do they look and feel post-adjustments?
• What are the most important aspects of my dreams (the ones I have the strongest emotional attachments too)? Defining these will help me clarify which parts I can more easily let go of and which ones are the most important for me to hold on to and make work.
• Now that I know the most important parts of my dreams, how can I make them possible now?:
  A. What are small, “bite-sized” steps I can take today to move towards these dreams?
  B. In what ways can others help me in reaching these goals?: Ways others can help/support in the actual achievement of the goal. Or ways they can support in other areas of my life (cleaning, shopping, etc.) so I have the energy to take small daily steps towards my goals.

When doing this process yourself, stay aware of what additional Judges pop up. Old ones, new ones, old ones in new ways. What are they saying? What do you need to acknowledge in their messages? Is there any useful information hidden in the Critical Voices?

For example, just in the process of writing the above exercise for myself, I heard an old judge begin to persistently whisper:
“You’re being selfish. If you have any physical energy on any given day, it should go towards taking care of your home, to supporting your husband and others. Then, if there is anything ‘left over,’ you can reach for your own dreams.” Which translates to: “Your needs/wants aren’t worthy.”

Obviously, this is a multi-layered process. Where did I put that handy-dandy onion peeler again? The one that removes all layers in one swift motion, with no tears? Ha. If only!

But that’s the gift of removing one layer at a time.

So who are you courageous enough to invite to your round table today? I guarantee the process will pay off in the end. Setting yourself free to live the life you are meant to be. Now, that’s Courageous Living!

Healing Through Pain

We have all experienced post-traumatic stress (PTS) from intense life experiences. It can come from a variety of sources: a near-brush with death; the impact of battling intense and painful illness; losing a loved one; a difficult childhood; or breaking off a long term relationship; to name just a few.

The event itself doesn’t matter so much as how it influences us.

This PTS can manifest itself in a number of ways: fear of future life-altering events; free-floating anxiety; newly formed phobias, unrelenting grief; unbidden tears; loss of affect; isolation; and withdrawal from activities. Many times the symptoms are insidious and creep up on us. We don’t even recognize the impact this life event had on us; or we are in denial of it.

We don’t want to admit we are vulnerable.

And, let’s face it, there’s a stigma around the acronym “PTSD.” Oftentimes, we associate it with major catastrophes and/or assume it manifests itself in ways that prevent the sufferer from engaging in life at all.

But once we take away our generalized perceptions of PTSD, there is much that can be gained by recognizing it in our lives, and working through it instead of avoiding it.

Let me give an example…

A dear friend suddenly lost her pet dog last fall. Using the descriptor “pet” seems to diminish the importance of their relationship. She, too, battles with chronic illness and her beloved dog (“L”) had been by her side and been her main partner through some of the toughest years of her life… those days she didn’t think she would ever get out of bed again. But her dog provided love, licking away her tears, and motivation to move, even if just slightly, because eventually she had to be taken outside.

Pets can be important companions to many of us, but I think they hold a special place in the hearts of those with chronic illness. They are the one being in our lives that love us no matter what… unshowered, in pain, grumpy, disheveled, confused, and lonely. They’ve seen the all of us and love us unconditionally.

I witnessed my friend experience months of unrelenting grief. I felt lost and powerless at ways to help her. All I could do was hold the space with her as she traversed this process at her own pace, and in her own way.

Then, one day a couple weeks ago, she had a revelation.

She was walking at the local reservoir, a favorite spot that her and her dog would wander. And she suddenly no longer felt alone.

She reflected on all the times L greeted her with unabandoned adoration, even when she didn’t feel like she deserved it herself. She remembered feeling so down all she could do was lie prone on the couch, too fatigued and depressed to even lift a hand to pet L. But her pup didn’t care, she would climb right up on that sofa and comfort my friend instead. She chuckled as she recalled 10 hour days away from home, rushing in worried because she hadn’t even stopped in to let L out to pee. But, again, her pup didn’t care; she greeted her with enthusiastic excitement just because she was home. No judgement. No shame.

She realized that all these negative thoughts she was having about herself were in direct contrast to what her dog had felt for her. That the best way to honor L’s life was to treat herself with the same unconditional acceptance and love that her pet had.

And then she said the most remarkable thing: “If I could find meaning in her life, I can find meaning in her death, too.”

She went on to say she had fallen into the victim role, angry at her pet for not being here to help her through this grief. Knowing this is an irrational thought, but her heart aching because L had been the one to help her through every difficult emotion over the last decade+. And this was the most painful emotion she had ever faced.
But, another “a-ha moment” had come to her: before L died, she only had her there to help her when they were physically close. Now, she had her with her all the time, and could tap into that unconditional love and understanding whenever, and wherever she needed it.

“To live in the hearts of those we love is never to die.” (Thomas Campbell)

She concluded by realizing that by taking care of herself, she is better able to be there for others. She won’t reach out if she isn’t making life choices that are in her own highest good.

And I have witnessed this transformation… she is now providing support to others that are grieving, because she is authentically speaking from her own experiences.

And by sharing her experience, strength and hope with me, she affected me deeply. It demonstrated the importance of living through the PTS until you can see a purpose in a difficult situation.

I, too, am in the grieving process right now. I am not grieving a specific person or being, but then again, that’s not entirely true. I am grieving someone. I am grieving myself. The person I was pre-illness. And I realize I have been living with the silent stalker of PTS for years, because I haven’t allowed myself to fully open up to this process of grief yet. I thought I was “okay,” that I had moved past it, that I was accepting of my situation. And in many ways I am, but that doesn’t negate the need to grieve what was and what could have been.

I need to look at that “lost Tam” with unconditional love and then give my current self that same gift of love and acceptance.

What experiences in your life have left a residual stain on your soul? An echo of yesterday that you haven’t completely been able to let go of yet?

I realize PTS doesn’t just go away by wishing it so. The passage of time doesn’t necessarily allow it to fully fade into the sunset. And pushing it to the recesses of our minds, tucked away in the box marked “things I’d rather forget” doesn’t work either. The only way to move beyond the experience and the left-over PTS, is to move through it. To dust off that box, open it up, and feel every ugly, painful, sad, angry, resentful, shameful emotion until we are spent. Until there is nothing left except an empty box to start re-filling with healing thoughts of love.

And, remember, this process can be big and scary and overwhelming. But you don’t have to go it alone! In fact, it’s advisable to find people that have traveled this journey before you to light the way. My friend experienced all the stages of grief with the help of support groups, hotlines, and friends. And she is now paying this gift forward by helping others. And I’m reliving my past with the help of a mentor and my friends, no longer holding these feelings in secret.

May today mark the beginning of a new healing journey for us all!

“What Goes Up Must Come Down”

“What goes up, must come down.” These lyrics keep dancing around (banging around?) in my head.  They seem to be the only thing that accurately describes my current state of being. And let’s face it, my life in general.

Once again, the rug has been pulled out from under me. I felt like my life was traveling in an upward momentum. With starts and stops along the way, of course. But, truly could I expect anything less? Still, generally moving in a positive direction.

After such a struggle throughout the fall, with a constantly flaring body unresponsive to current courses of treatment, unrelenting fatigue, and an onslaught of back and forth calls to insurance pleading my case, there was finally some light at the end of the tunnel: infusion treatments were finally approved, literally in the 11^th hour.

I began my Simponi Aria infusions around Christmas and experienced immediate improvement in my symptoms. My morning stiffness went from 3 hours to 2 and even onto a mere 1 many days!! My fatigue was abating and I was able to participate in multiple family gatherings without weeks of post-event “crash and burn.” It was a gift. It was a miracle!

I anxiously awaited my second infusion and experienced similar success, even a tad better this time!  “We may have finally found something that treats my autoimmune illness,” my heat sang with glee!

Visions of days without pain coupled with participating in, instead of just sideline observing my life danced in my head! I even allowed myself to daydream about a future of renewed productivity and purposefulness.

In the last couple of weeks, my body started to crash again (hence the lack of blog posts); locking, swollen joints, pain and fatigue. But this time, I was happy for the symptoms. Strange, I know. But they were clear indicators that the infusion indeed was working because I was on a downward trend heading right into my next scheduled infusion…

This Monday! Hooray!! I can’t wait! Bring on the relief!

But, then, remember the second half of my opening refrain? …

“…Must come down…”

And, come down it has. Crashing down.

Today, was my first follow-up with my rheumatologist since the start of the new infusion treatments.  I gave him the same low-down I just gave you. And he looked sad. Defeated.

“Has the billing office contacted you?” he tentatively begins.

“Guess they’re leaving it up to me to be the Bad Guy.”

What? What is he trying to say?! My heart begins to sink. Am I hearing this right?

Both Medicare and my (supposedly “super-duper”) private secondary insurance suddenly decided to retroactively decline my treatment.

“Its off-label,” they tsk. Tsk.

Well guess what numnuts?! EVERY medication I take is off-label.   I have a RARE disease that does not get studied because it is not profitable for the drug companies whom sponsor said studies. Never mind, that my disease, Relapsing Polychondritis, has an extremely high mortality rate in untreated cases (before discovery, most people were diagnosed post-mortem). Guess they don’t care when it’s only a 1000 people in the U.S. population.

So, now, not only have they denied any future treatments, they have also reneged on payments due for treatments already administered! That’s 2 infusions at the “cut-rate” price of $10,000!!! How can that even be ethical?

Doctor: “Legally, you could be held financially responsible for this amount. Ethically, I could never allow that to happen. And, we could continue treatments if you have a bunch of cash lying around to pay out of pocket.” Wry smile.

Full disclosure here: I just did our taxes and guess what? My husband and I currently bring in a combined annual income of a whopping $33,000! So, yeah, I don’t think so.

So, bottom line… it appears that insurance (or let’s face it, in this case, the government), feels it is more cost effective to keep me chronically ill (meaning more urgent care costs, hospitalizations and the such, in the future) and unable to have gainful employment (requiring on-going SSD payments), then to pay for a medications that will treat my disease (now) and prevent the progression of it.

What kind of upside-down world do we live in?

But, guess what? The ball has once again landed back in my court.  And what choice do I have but to evolve and adapt once again? To reassess life and the options it presents me, to pick up the pieces and try to build something worthwhile out of the rubble…

And I will.

But, for a short bit, I just want to have a pity-party.

To whine, “why can’t anything ever be easy, or at least simple, for me?!”

Because it just is NOT.

There must be some major life lessons I’m supposed to learn this lifetime around.

They say that when you pray for something, God doesn’t give it to you, he (she) gives you an opportunity to develop that skill. But did I really need another chance to practice Acceptance. Resilience. Inner Strength?

It feels like I have enough of that to fill 10 lifetimes.

Sigh.

Cultivate a Garden of Hope

We each possess a ripe environment in which to cultivate our own Garden of Hope; but is up to you to ensure that the soil of your soul is fertile ground for your garden to grow successfully.  Like “acceptance,” “hope” doesn’t just happen. You don’t wake up one day and announce, “I am Hopeful!” It is a daily practice; it takes time. And just like a garden, it needs to be nurtured, fed and cherished.

Life and its circumstances can clog our garden with weeds and debris. All it takes is one solid shake of a tree, rattling our core foundation, to scatter leaves to all corners, disguising the Garden of Hope that lies beneath. In times like these, it is wise to call on external support to clean up your garden, to lift up your spirit. Hope isn’t a solitary pursuit.  Hope is meant to be shared and to be received.

So how do you cultivate this Garden of Hope?  It starts with just one seed, sowing your mind with little daily reminders of Hope.  Overtime, these individual experiences start to reseed the soil, creating clusters of Hopeful memories.  Hope becomes exponential.  The more you practice Hope, the more Hope grows.  And the best fertilizer to help your Hope blossom is a generous dose of Gratitude.

Hope and Gratitude go hand in hand.  Anytime you are feeling overwhelmed, clogged with the weeds of Doubt, Worry, Fear, Anger, and Apathy, think of just one thing that you are grateful for that day. Most often that one thought leads to another thought, and then another… until you picking poppies rather than stinging nettle!

Here are additional ideas for incorporating gratitude into your daily practice:

• Write an “A-Z Gratitude list” with one grateful reminder to match each letter (ex: A=Asha, my cat; B=Babies, like my awesome nephew; C=Colorful sunsets; D=Dave, my always supportive hubby; E=Enjoying a book in the hammock; etc.)
• Write a Retro-Gratitude List, travel forward 10 years from now and then look back at your life today and all the things you felt blessed to have had in 2013.  Many times we miss moments of gratitude and grace in our daily living. Remind yourself of all the unexpected gifts you received, friendships formed, risks taken, challenges met, times spent with loved ones, etc. Start with the basics: “I lived in this amazing apartment/house I loved at (location).”
• Make a list of all the ways “God showed him/herself in your life today.” As you experience moments of grace, gifts of support and friendship, opportunities for hope or growth, or periods of peace, jot them down. Or it may be more symbolic, “signs” that God is working in your life.
• Create a Gratitude Grab-Jar: As you experience feelings of gratitude, write them down on a small piece of paper and stick them in a jar.  Then you’ll have reminders to pull out during times you are feeling less than grateful!
• List all the things you can do in your life (regardless of physical, mental, financial or time constraints) that bring you a grateful heart. For me it’s: listening to music, meditating, taking a short walk, sitting in my backyard, petting my cat, reading a book just for pure entertainment purposes, enjoying a dark piece of chocolate. This is another list to resource during times of sadness or stress.
• Think of all the people in your life you are grateful for; make your own catalog of angels.   List both people in your present circle but also those who are no longer in your life.  For me, some of my biggest supporters and champions have passed away, but I know their spirits still watch over and protect me.  Other people were in my life for short periods but the impact they made is ever-lasting (like a caring nurse).
• Start a “3 Good Things” daily list: at the end of each day write down “the three things you are grateful for” or “three good things that happened to you that day.”

These exercises will help you cultivate a Hopeful Heart; something you’ll carry inside of you always, like a soothing secret.  Once you have created your own flourishing Garden of Hope, you can then visit it anytime to pick a bouquet of flowers. And, when doesn’t a handful of fresh, bright flowers make any situation seem brighter?!

“Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in your soul

And sings the tune, without words

And never stops — at all.”

(Emily Dickinson)

Staying Angry at My Chronic Illness: I’m the One Who Gets Burned

Am I angry at my illness?  This was a question recently posed by a friend who remarked, “I know I would if I were you.”  And it’s given me pause.  I certainly have been angry at my illness in the past, or more accurately, at the doctors who ineptly handled my illness resulting in near-death effects.  Holding on to the resentment aimed at these negligent doctors gave me a false sense of power in a situation where I was entirely powerless.  If I could focus my energy on them; I wouldn’t have to face the reality of my physical unwell-being.

When I sit quietly with this question today, I stay deeply aware of all the emotional currents running beneath the surface.   And none of them resonate with anger; not any more.  Is that even possible?, I wonder.  Yet, it is.  Time heals; if you let it.  Somewhere during my medical journey, I realized the only one I was hurting by holding onto this red hot coal of anger was me.  I waited years to lob that coal at the ones I resented.  In the end I was left standing with the hot coal in my hand; the only one burned by this “righteous fury.”  I got tired of burning myself.  I finally had the insight to see that by holding onto this on-going anger, I thought I was giving myself back power.  But in truth, I was giving these doctors the power, by constantly bringing their negative energy into my life over and over again.

Anger and resentments are tricky things.  Many of us are afraid to let go of anger, because then it will signify that the other side has “won.”  That you are giving in.  But, it’s the exact opposite.  Just because you forgive, doesn’t mean you forget.  We often associate the word “forgive” with excusing someone for their behavior or mistake.  And this can be true.  But, in this circumstance, forgive falls under the alternate definition: “to stop being angry about or resenting somebody or somebody’s behavior” (Encarta Dictionary).  That’s all.  I decided to stop being angry; to put down the hot coal and start living my own life again.  I have not forgotten what the doctors did; I could never forget that.  But, by forgiving, this experience became an extremely unpleasant memory.  It taught me how not to act in the future.  In this case, I no longer implicitly trust doctors just because they have a medical degree on the wall.  If they are not responding to the needs of my body, I go elsewhere.  Because that’s the key, it is my body.  Therefore I am the only one truly qualified to know when something is awry with it.  In this case, by processing my anger into forgiveness, I’ve gained valuable tools in which to address my physical needs.  If I was putting all my energy and effort into hating these people, I would miss the experiences that are happening in the now.

Holding onto to anger is living in the past.  I have already lost chunks of my life to illness, I am not about to sacrifice anymore by reliving the resentment I feel at my physical condition.  That’s not to say I don’t get frustrated with my body and its limitations (see yesterday’s post as a fine example of this!).  I just choose to fully embrace these feelings when they come, validate myself, share them with others, and then let them go.  For me, dwelling in a place of anger only creates a septic environment filled with fear.

So what is the opposite of living a life of anger?  It’s living a life of acceptance.  Again, acceptance doesn’t mean that I have to feel joyful about my situation, it just means that I have come to terms with life’s circumstances; it’s “the realization of a fact or truth and the process of coming to terms with it” (Encarta Dictionary).  The truth is I have a chronic illness; actually several chronic illness.  They are all autoimmune in nature; my body has decided that my organs, cells, blood vessels, bones, and connective tissues are the enemy and will attack them at no cost.  Those are the facts.  It is also my truth that my disease cannot “attack” my spirit unless I let it.  I choose to accept the facts of my situation and to live in what I know to be true.  Holding onto to anger at my body only creates another invasive disease.  It makes me stay stuck in the past, in the “what if’s” and “if onlys.”  If only my life had turned out differently.  Well, it didn’t.  So instead of constantly fuming over my situation and asking (wailing), “Why me?!,”  I’ve decided to bury my anger, plant a garden of acceptance, love and hope and face each day with “What’s next.”  These are my circumstances; it’s up to me what I do with them!

It’s Summer; Time to Pull Out the Sneakers! What?!

So, it’s often said that “Summer is Sandal Season!”  Well, I got the great news that for me, this “Summer is Sneaker Season!” Yeah.  The day before I left for vacation, I had an urgent appointment to see a podiatrist.  I had been experiencing pain in my left heel, at times, so severe that I couldn’t put any weight on it. Obviously concerned, I was grateful to get a last minute office visit. After I heard the diagnosis and treatment plan, let’s just say, I was less than enthusiastic.

It’s hard when you live a life of “restrictions” to find out that there is but one more area of my life I now need to adjust to meet the “needs” of my chronic illness. When the weather warms, the first thing I anticipate is pulling out my beloved sandals and all the colorful nail polishes that come with the season! It’s truly one of my last indulgences.  There are so many modifications I have to make to my daily living, and showing off my sexy feet (the one area that doesn’t puff up with Prednisone weight!) is a luxury I just don’t feel like giving up!

I know I am acting like a toddler throwing a tantrum over imposed rules.  But, I don’t care!  I take so many things with a smile on my face, my chin held high, my thoughts focused on the positive rather than the negative.  I didn’t fight the podiatrist when he delivered the news that I had torn my posterior tibilial tendon and told I needed to immobilize my foot for 6 weeks or I was at risk of a ruptured tendon (all said with a wagging finger. Tsk. Tsk.).  He proceeded to tell me that the typical treatment would be a “boot” (those big, clunky walking casts that go from toe to knee).  Thankfully (?) he said my back would hate him for this (I have had two lower discectomies for ruptured discs) so it eliminated this option.  The only alternative is to wear solid, athletic sneakers at all times. So I tried, I really tried, to look at the positive; sneakers were a heck of a lot better than a boot, right?  But, at the same time, all I could hear was this mocking voice inside my head, “Well, won’t you look hot on the beach with your bathing suit and sneakers!”

I have been the “good patient” and tried to follow the treatment plan (which also includes daily exercises, massage and ice) to the best of my ability.  It’s been well over a week now and even on vacation, I wore my sneakers most of the time.  But I have always hated having my feet confined.  So when I need to “free my tootsies,” I don the prescribed orthopedic flip flops, a much more promising option. Alas, I was told they were only for getting out of bed; they would be my “next summer’s shoe” (more finger wagging. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.).

But, here’s the kicker.  My body does not like change!! Any change.  A change of footwear has been a huge trigger for a cascade of symptoms.  Following orders, I shove my feet into the only sneakers I own, heavy hiker sneaks, and my body rebels.  For me, the weight of just a couple extra pounds dragging me down is enough to trigger a flare. More parts of my feet than I knew existed hurt, my feet and ankles keep swelling into nondescript shapes, and it has thrown my whole lower body out of whack; knees, hips, back…

And the number one feature of my autoimmune disease, Polychondritis, is the attack of connective tissue.  Hazzah!  Tendons are connective tissue.  Just like this disease has marched its deadly forces through every inch of my body, it has now reached my feet!  Also, the tendon I injured is a whopper.  It runs from just under my heel, around the inside of my ankle, up to my Achilles.  And by tearing this, it has inflamed my plantar fasciitis (ligament) as well as my Achilles Tendon.  I certainly don’t want to risk rupturing any of those (I keep envisioning athletes suddenly crumpling to the ground. Ugh.). This one tiny, torn tendon has caused a ripple effect, inflaming all the tendons and ligaments in my feet.

Today I am struggling mostly with finding a happy medium.   A way to heal my heel (hardy-har. har.) while also soothing the rest of my joints and tissue.  Right now, I am in way worse pain than when I walked into the doctor’s office.  And that’s not a good solution for any of the things that ail me.

But, just being able to “say” these feelings out loud is a relief.  I have to trust that the rest will come with time and patience.

In and of itself, I realize that communicating my disappointments, my worries, my fears, is healing therapy.  Because holding all that in behind the mask of a smile only adds stress to an already stressful situation.  What are you holding in today that could be shared? Whatever trials you are facing, free yourself from the cage of stoicism.   I guarantee you will find relief in the comfort of shared pain… we don’t have to face life’s ups and downs alone!