Wednesday, August 15, 2012

August 15, 2012 -- Working Against Myself


(I had planned to continue the house tour by showing you all the backyard today, but the weather was so terrible, I couldn't take pictures. Therefore, my new plan is just to whine a lot.)

Today has been a dreary rainy day, after a night of really violent storms, punctuated by the urgent biological needs of The Worst Dog Ever, who will NOT stay out of the cat box and therefore has some big time stomach trouble.  Unfortunately, he's also incredibly afraid of storms so when he wakes me up because he has to go out in the middle of a monsoon, it means HE HAS TO GO OUT. I struggle out of bed because it's either let him out and wait for him to come back in, or spend my morning steam cleaning the carpet again.

Three times last night.

Which is terrible for me because it takes me about an hour to fall back asleep, and then there were the storms.  I feel like I've had about 20 minutes of sleep.

I went to yoga, even though I have this new injury (that I am NOT talking about. Nope. Although, let me just say that applying ice to this injury isn't nearly as fun as Fifty Shades of Stupid makes it seem.) Yoga was good. I am learning to curb my desire to go deep into every pose even if it means I'm aggravating an injury. Today, I really listened and when I felt something bad, I stopped. I came away feeling like I'd done the right thing--my injury wasn't made worse--but slightly defeated anyway. It's hard to feel like I'm making any progress when my body seems to be actively working against me.


Of course, my body ISN'T working against me. There are lessons I need to learn here, and I think my body is acting as a messenger for those lessons.  I'm pretty sure that the fact that I still feel the need to do everything as hard as I possibly can comes from fear --fear that if I don't give it my all, I will somehow forfeit the right to be mobile, fit and strong. I think I still have a lot of fear that my healing is temporary. I haven't been able to find my confidence that no matter what happens, I can come back from it.

I'm not exactly sure what to do about it.  It's a form of Post Traumatic Stress, I'm sure, but I'm not sure what to do about it. Maybe recognizing what it is and where it comes from will give me the mindfulness I need to respond in a healthy, loving way when I feel myself going down that path.

I'm pretty sure, though, that the healthy response to fear does not involve eating three cookies that I knew beforehand would make me sick.

It's impossible to hear the Divine Voice within when I'm huffing fear, you know.


7 comments:

Becca said...

If the divine voice had chocolate chips or creamy filling it would be a lot harder to ignore

Anonymous said...

A friend apparently locks his pet (cat) in a bathroom when he is likely to mess a rug. Do you have a laundry room or something you can use in storms, put newspaper or puppy pads down on? Momma needs her sleep...you must put your own oxygen mask on...
-Sarah Q Q

Miri said...

Oh, Becca couldn't be more right! And a puppy like yours oughta be a sweet little infant that grows into an amazing child... for all the sleeplessness and stress he causes.

Miri said...

And I am quite sure that my former comment didn't do justice to the point of your beautifully expressed post. It amazes me and inspires me that you can analyze that need to do it "best, fastest, hardest" and see in it a lesson of sorts. Thank you for sharing.

Eileen Jackson said...

I agree that divine inner voice should learn how to bake.

You know Barb, even when you are having stinky days, you are still an inspiration. Thanks for it all.

Sue O said...

You really are inspiring! And to curb the doggie/litter problem a friend found a cabinet that had a cat door cut in the door and kept her litter in there to keep her dog out of it. It wasn't 'cheap' but it also looked like a piece of furniture. Might be worth checking into!

Bullwinkle said...

A healthy response to fear ... I think of the sudden irrepressible urge to eat cookies as my body* trying to distract me, trying to protect me from something. I (try to) tell it 'thank you, I appreciate the effort. And Maybe you'd like to tell me what I'm avoiding?'

*Actually, I think of it as one of the internal monsters (but a nice one - more like a small child inside a scary halloween costume)that try to pass themselves off as rational thought. It's important to be gentle with the monster - otherwise it starts bawling and screaming and it's really hard to figure out what the problem is when it insists it needs ice cream to survive.