Welcome to my happy hippie misadventures of self discovery in artistry, marriage and motherhood merrily carrying the baggage of mental health and an autoimmune disease. I promise to keep things interesting and almost always look damn good while doing it. BTW my baby ruins lives and you'll hate me for my husband. 

Day 20 - Sit Down and Write/Getting Back My Fight

I told myself I would sit down and write. 

Tonight, I got back my fight. 

I am on day 20 of my 3 week detox. Tomorrow is the last stand. I have wanted to give up so many times. Right now I'd like to escape into the kitchen to dump chocolate chips from the freezer into my mouth. But I have stuck with it almost 143%. 

Yesterday I had a sweet potato fries with cinnamon and a dip made with coconut oil, cinnamon and honey. All was approved but the honey for the final week. 3 times I've had finger tips loaded up with all natural fresh ground peanut butter. No added anything and it tasted so divine. Aside from those one handed sins I've been all in. 

This has been hard. Tested and tried me over things I didn't know where there to struggle with. I knew emotional eating would come back up but I had no idea how hard. My dad shows his love though food. You can feel how much he loves you when he cuts the very best bit of his steak or offers the last morsel of his cheese cake. Food makes me feel full and cared for. 

I have had to, taken the opportunity to learn to care for myself and feel full other ways these last 20 days. I wish I had written more but it's probably a good thing I just took some space. I really sat and felt in my being versus expressing it. Marinated in my moment instead of projected it out. 

I went to The Dance Collaborative practice tonight for the first time. I spent most of it crying on the floor while watching them move. I have been healing my broken body for 2 months. While I have made so much progress it still hurts to do most anything out of the ordinary daily functions. It took 6 weeks and half way through this detox to grocery shop without coming home crying at the end. I can stand and walk around now but stills struggle to sit up straight without support for more than a minute or two. The left side of my body's muscle have developed tight and shorter than they should be. My right side is under developed and needs major work to catch up. The kink in the middle hurts like hell. 

The scary part is that accept the turn isn't an option. My only choice is to fully heal the injury and pull things back into a straight line. If not, I'm not certain I can have more children. This injury is new within the last half year from something so terrifyingly simple, sleep in the same position during pregnancy and post partum healing. Laying on my right side, with a pillow between my knees, feet and another beneith my belly supporting the extra weight. I stayed that way until Rowan and 2 months at least. When my extra loose ligaments and joints tightened up after the relaxin dissipated, the curve of slumber stayed. 

When I initially got my diagnosis a year ago this week I stayed up late one night reading others Zebra's stories. So many of how they went from living active lives to ending up in wheelchairs. At the time I couldn't see how that could ever be possible for me. I am strong; I thought. My body is my safe place. I know this space in and out. I would never let that happen to me. I would never let myself get that weak. 

I made a choice to have a baby and continue to fight for him despite having multiple Drs tell I couldn't and shouldn't. I trusted in my body and believed in it fully. I did things they said I couldn't do over and over and over. I carried him to term then natural birthed him my backyard and it was all perfect. I am strong I thought. My body is my best friend. 

Then I saw the X-ray and have never been so afraid. 

It's never a choice to end up trapped or broken. Life just happens. 

I have decided to be the thing that happens to my life. 

I have to, 

I will fix my spine. 

I am meant to have another baby. 
There's a little girl waiting for me. 
I am meant to move and dance. 
Wheels aren't my fate, 
I will determine my destiny. 

I am fighting and I found the will on the hardwood floor where it's always waiting patiently for me to feel back into myself. I am strong. I can do anything. 

I will walk the Great Wall of China holding my children's hands and know in this moment, I decided to never ever give up as I have over and over and over again before. 

I am the god damn storm. 

Done is Better than Perfect - 2 Day Post Detox

Fuck This Detox - Day8