Cleaning House

While I’m excited about moving, it’s giving me a lot of stress.

I miss my husband so much.

I’m freaking out over shit like “is the moving truck we’re renting going to fit in the driveway?”

“I shouldn’t be relaxing – I need to pack!”

“How am I going to do all this by myself?”

Seriously, I was having dreams (nightmares?) about moving.

I’ve also been working on getting my running endurance back up, so I’ve been running every other day, but I can’t seem to get past two miles before I start to hurt.

I’m trying to fill every free moment with “doing something” to prepare for the move. None of those things, however, have involved “being around people.” o_O

All this stress came at a cost. Every morning, I’d wake up in pain; every muscle in my body hurt and some days were worse than others. Like I was seriously thinking I had some awful disease and that I was doomed to be in pain for the rest of my life.

After the wake up about being a hermit as referenced above, yesterday I finally had to do something. Something to try and take care of me – so I called around to find a place where I could get a massage to see if I could relieve some of this stress and pain.

It was the best thing I’ve done for myself in a long time. I’m sore today, but that’s because I got one hell of a deep tissue massage on my sad, neglected body.

When we lived in MN, I would get a massage every 3-4 weeks. It was great and kept my stress levels down. It also was beneficial to my fitness goals because I was able to run further and push myself harder since my muscles were refreshed and not sore.

It’s been a wake up that I need to take care of myself. To clean my mental house of all the garbage that’s littering about the place. I owe it to myself to be happy and be grateful for the things I do have and not be so full of self-loathing at myself and over all the things I don’t have or are missing.

I’m 43 years old. I’m not sick. I have two strong legs that can lift weights and run. I have two arms that can lift and grasp anything. My lungs breathe easy and my eyes, while needing glasses, can see clearly. I have a sharp mind. I can hear music and I can taste all sorts of food and drink. I have good friends. I have a great family. I have an amazing husband. I may have been though some difficult times in my life, but through it all my body hasn’t given up on me. Now I gotta stop giving up on it.

This healthy body that has seen me through it all is still standing strong and I need to start being grateful and content with that body. I need to stop punishing it for not fitting the “not good enough” mold that I’ve constructed for myself. So I’m throwing that mold away with all the other garbage that’s been in my head that’s been weighing it down.

Time to love the body I have now, not the one I “should” have.

Time to appreciate everything this body can do, not what it “can’t” do.

Time to put myself first so everyone around me will get the best me possible.

Time for me.

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