Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Friday afternoon I gave blood. It's what I did.
I ate too much after I gave. It's what I did.
Friday night I joined The Gang at Mangia Mangia and had a fantastic dinner. We giggled and carried on as if we hadn't seen each other in years. I hugged my Munchkin, who was back in town from college. It's what I did.
Saturday morning I had breakfast with The Gang. We laughed even more than the night before. It's what I did.
Saturday afternoon after the Mr and I were finished with errands I scooted over to my friends house to spend time with her furballs. The oldest one and I took a nap on the sofa. Ya, it's what I did.
Sunday I morning laid in bed and read my book while my furballs played "catch me if you can" all around me. It felt peaceful. It's what I did.
Sunday while the Mr was at work I went back over to spend more time with friends furballs. My footing slipped from there and I ate and ate. Then I sat and contemplated my journey - where I have been and the journey forward. I got lost in my head. I spiraled into the abyss and then I just sat, numb. It's what I did.
Monday I got up and started again.
I finally made it to my first mammogram. The place I went was fantastic . . . free valet parking, quiet music, soft fluffy robes for each patient to wear and a nurse who walked you gently through the process from the beginning to the end. Quietly, it's what I did.
Later in the day, when I slipped into my workout gear I glanced in the mirror and then I struck a poise. I smiled a little smile and I slid my hands down my curves and I embraced them. Ya, it's what I did.
I fought my way through boxing - both mentally and physically. When I spoke the phrase, "I'm not sure my body will allow me to do that move," my NEW sparing partner looked me dead in the face and replied, "Oh KT you'll be surprised at what you can do, let's do this!" In her strength I powered through. High fives and hugs came thereafter! Oh ya, that's what I did.
Sometimes this journey can knock me down even when things are going so right. Sometimes I get lost inside my own head and I fight my way out.
Sometimes I actually wonder if I'll ever move on from 232.5.
Sometimes I question everything and I rage.
Sometimes I find myself a quiet place and I cry just to feel the release.
Sometimes I find this journey to be mentally exhausting.
Then I stand up, brush my self off and I begin again.