Your Jounrye is Far From Over

(Tell Your Heart to Beat Again—Phillips Craig and Dean)

 

Living vertically is something for which to be grateful.

 

My church is doing 40 days of complaining for Lent, but that doesn’t mesh well with my goal to always choose JOY when I can…

 

Monday turned out to be a LOT better day than I expected it to be. When your day follows a night with no sleep secondary to pain that overuse of OTC meds couldn’t make bearable, you expect the rest of the day to go downhill from there, especially since you know that sleep is hugely important to your ability to function. Sure, I was very thankful that I was doing well enough on meds that I didn’t need to sit up and let gravity help me keep my stomach contents where it belongs, but that is a small consolation when you are rocking and whimpering…not to mention that the movement involved in not sleeping all night makes the hair a hot mess to get detangled after showering in the morning.

 

I should note that I am not dying or anything—I am totally fine, just my body rejects being a girl…(that is, I have gotten really bad cramps at least occasionally since the summer before eighth grade…to the point that one day one of my coworkers almost called the emergency room for help because I was so pale, nonresponsive even to hands in front of my face, and gripping the counter to hold myself upright…for me that has become normal…it is hard when for seemingly no reason I can’t breathe for a few minutes when the pain peaks, but it is just the way it is for me)…kinda like it’s just the way it is that there are speed limits on the roads…I can’t change it so I mostly accept it…

 

So yeah, over the past few days I have noticed that I seem to be living at a level above (in a bad way) what I consider to be a normal baseline. By no means am I at a point of clinical OCD, but the fact that lint in the dryer could gross me out and require a hand washing upon completing laundry duties is a pretty good sign that there is a possibility that I am headed the wrong direction. Sure, I could blame it on the lack of sleep, but exhaustion can’t do anything more than reveal a problem that is already available below the surface. (Just wondering how a pile of lint that is (not even exaggerating) the size of a hand towel could possibly have built up without anyone getting around to emptying the lint trap…I guess I can add preventing dryer fires and improving dryer efficiency to my CV…useful skills in a pharmacist, right?)…

 

That made me think about how I said a while back that if there was any possibility that OCD could ever come back I’d tell someone and get help imemditaley…We’re good on the telling front, but as far as getting help…well, I’m not sure I intend to go out of my way to do that. I try, but I give up easily, because I’d like some, but it is not my number one priority. It isn’t that it was a lie when I said it—when I said it, it was very true—at that time, OCD was so fresh in my mind that it really was the most important problem to solve if it were to appear again. It has been some time since that was the case though. As noted above, a much more present problem at the moment is being a girl. It is not fun to be unable to wear socks inside my shoes while it is snowing because before I get halfway to reaching my feet to attempt the socks my body tells me that I am going to be fighting to avoid V if I go any further. At this point, if I were to go out of my way to visit a health provider, it would be to discuss how to not be in so much pain. OCD currently is in my top 5 of health items to consider addressing…but considering that a physical health issue comes above it and my prioritizing of physical health problems is admittedly somewhat pitiful, getting past number one is probably not happening…’cause number two is currently the ankle I fell on in October of 9th grade ’cause stress=more movement=more soreness.

 

But anyway, since the OCD has resided, my definition of “everything” has shrunk significantly. Monday I was handed a container of Clorox wipes and told to clean pretty much everything in a particular room. Given that same assignment at the height of OCD I would probably still be there and not even be halfway done as at least the outside of every folder and notebook would need to be wiped down among many many other things…I definitely do still include somethings in “everything” that as soon as I am done I realize might not have been the intent, like the covers of books, the outside of the roll of trash bags, and the outside of the pencil cups, but imperfection and also the possibility of leaving some (if not many) germs in the room is totally okay with me as long as the highest touch surfaces are wiped down.

 

Also, not all going back in time inside my head is hurtful…sometimes it is hilarious…like how I was remembering recently about when I was in eighth grade and was screaming my head off throwing a tantrum on the floor because apparently as an eighth grader I needed fruit punch flavored teen strength Tylenol, and it didn’t matter that they didn’t make that packaging anymore because that’s what I wanted (eventually I gave in and got grape childrens ibuprofen instead)…this is why I can safely say that I am not exaggerating when I say I am stubborn as a mule…also just goes to show that this girl who acted older than her age in public took a long time to finish growing up at home…

 

Also, back to the laundry, the circular table clothes won…I tried to fold one…it looked like a toddler helped me…I gave up and made a pile…whoever thought circular table cloths was a good idea can be the one to figure that out…also the washer seems to retain a lot of water which in my world seems kinda gross, but that might have more to do with the fact someone told me the basement was going to be creepy before I went down there and therefore I already had the expectation of non-safety prior to the discovery…and of course, logic and laxk of sleep don’t mesh well…also, I have the Hotel Room Song and Gotta Pack (both by what’s up Elle) stuck in my head for the past week…I wish whatsupelle still existed…”but is it your pleasure to wake me up, ’cause I’m still on Pacific time it’s only 4:00, add insult to injury the beds are way too comphy you did that on purpose didn’t you?”…it’s better than when I had maternity pants stuck in my head though…that was mildly awkward… “maternity pants for kids, don’t let a waist band hold your toddler down”

 

I decided not to re-read what I wrote before hitting post…so please pardon any typos 🙂

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