My life has always been pretty predictable. Growing up, you could always find me making pot holders, baking cookies, finger painting, singing, or petting dogs. And today, despite expanding my tastes to include diners, Disney World, thrift shops, and movies, you would find pretty much the same thing.
I LOVED my boring life. I cherished it...even though I didn't know it. I loved that I could go to any city, drink a glass of tea, eat a crusty baguette, and feel right at home. I loved that I could go to the beach and walk up and down the sand dunes without issue. I loved spending the day at Disney, jutting from the Haunted Mansion to Space Mountain without blinking an eye.
My life has never been glamorous, but it's always been my life--the life of my choosing. Now, one of the hardest things to accept, is that my life was never really mine. It was a gift. It was on loan. And lately it feels like that loan has expired.
Today, as I struggle to create a new routine and deal with some scary new symptoms, I can't help but wonder...
Will I ever be the same? Will I ever get better? Will I ever like this new way of living? Will I ever feel like me again?
The answers remain to be seen. For now, I'm taking Theodore Roosevelt's advice:
“Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.”
Altered Today: New Routine...oil pulling » lemon water »vitamins »breakfast »dry sauna »water »body brushing »epsom salt bath »green drink »searing pain that brought me to my knees.
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