"Frustration is a function of our expectation and our expectations are often a reflection of the social mirror rather than our own values and priorities"
SING IT to me, STEVEN R!!!!!! Sing it like a white male from Utah. Sing it like a 28 year old woman who has some sort of autoimmune disfunction that makes her so tired she can't type without wanting to pass out on the floor!
I AM FRUSTRATED. today my head is foggy. I slept 9 hours last night and still I want more and if that weren't enough, MY TOES HAVE STARTED TO GO NUMB AT WEIRD TIMES. to quote my little sister, "MY BOOOOODDDDYYYYY!"
I almost started crying at my computer screen this morning. Why can't they give this disease some name other than a generic nod in the direction of arthritis? Why can't I wake up and know that I am going to feel GOOD all day?
If I applied mr. covey's insightful quote to this particular situation, my frustration exists because I expect my body to actually WORK which doesn't necessarily reflect my own values and priorities...what ARE my priorities then??? Evidently they are Chocolate cake, thai food, arrested development and 14 hours of sleep... in that order. Maybe, just like in my relationships, I should stop expecting so much from my body? Be grateful when it just wakes up and moves and breathes...just like what we expect from the men in our lives (haha). I don't want to spend the rest of my life frustrated by the things that I am unable to do and it looks like fatigue, weird joint pain and random numbness might be here to stay...so I'll just lower my expectations or be more realistic...does that sound fatalistic to anyone else but me????
WAH!
3 comments:
My booooodddddyyyy is also my favorite quote from "Overboard." I go into giggles every time.
It sounds like symptoms a friend of mine had in college-
First they thought arthritis
Then lupis
then they found out it was a reaction to some medication he was taking
As a doctor- I knew right away what your symptoms were. You need new shoes. Not ortho-nurse shoes, but something strappy and sparkly (and maybe pink or neon green) that my eight year old niece Abby would adore. Oh, and ok. So maybe I'm not a doctor, but tingling toes? Come on! Your feet are telling you something! Why do we always guess the bad stuff first?
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