Home, body
On coming home to myself, again.
Hi, friends. We're flowing with the go1 and doing an essay in lieu of the recently-introduced mid-month roundup. I am nothing if not inconsistent. You can thank the ADHD, probably.
I took an inadvertent break from writing last week.
We had plans on Monday to watch the eclipse with friends at a park within the path of totality, about two hours from where we live.
After a very rough and very chronic-illness-flare-filled morning, we arrived later than our friends, and the park was full. So instead, we ended up about seven minutes away from there, in a Dunkin' parking lot where there was a smallish grassy field.
A bunch of other people had the same idea we did; each of us opened up our tailgates, set up our blankets or snacks or telescopes, let kids or dogs out of the car. Then we all waited for a couple hours.
My daughter made a friend immediately.
A group of three adults nearby shared their filtered telescope with anyone who wanted to see throughout the whole thing, including the little kids.
We had cloudy skies that obscured most of totality, but we did get glimpses, and we still had a beautiful view of that eerie twilight effect, where it looks like sunset all around you.
My chronic illness flare settled down long enough for me to enjoy the eclipse and this shared experience with all of these kind strangers.
And…
I sobbed on the way home, because it was such a long and difficult day, and I was utterly exhausted.
What would have been a two hour trip home on a normal day ended up being over twice as long, and on top of weeks of trouble sleeping before it, and everything else, I just had nothing left. My husband took a half day off of work the next day so he could come home early and I could try to rest.
This past weekend, I cancelled a much-needed massage appointment day-of, because the thought of showering and leaving the house just felt impossible.
Instead, I stayed home and took my first ever dose of Vyvanse, my new ADHD medication.
It's been a few days now, and I haven't just been more productive or able to focus - though those effects are definitely appreciated - I've also felt better physically, been more patient, and less anxious.
A week ago, I had to give up on a book, because an early scene in it had contributed to a major increase in intrusive thoughts. The last few days, those have significantly decreased.
In February, I wrote a bit about the skill regression that came from my autistic burnout, and my frustration with my situation on a number of levels. Today, I felt capable when dealing with an unexpected mess, when assembling a new tumbling compost bin on my own with both kids playing nearby, and when restarting a square for my cardigan project for the nth time with a new technique.
Food is always one of my biggest struggles, and I have been noticing that it's easier to recognize when I need to eat, and to choose and prepare something before I'm over-hungry. Hydrating has also been less of a struggle.
My chronic illness is strongly tied to my stress level, so my flares have subsided.
There's a vendor market at my local library this weekend that I've been looking forward to for several weeks and worried I wouldn't feel well enough to enjoy, and now I'm finally letting my excitement build.
I had a reminder set in my phone to check my Omen Days predictions for April at the start of the month, and I wondered how my interpretation of North Star/Security/Home might show up in my life.
I imagined that, if nothing else, it was a good reminder, in the transition to spring, to make time for rest at home. I thought it might mean cancelled plans, and retreat.
I have always been a home body, but I also feel like what I'm experiencing right now is me becoming more at home in my body again.
I've had glimpses of this feeling, through the cloud cover that is my mental and physical illness, and there have been so many moments in the last handful of years that I have desperately wondered if it would take another twenty years to experience it consistently again.
I know this is not a before/after situation where I have fixed all my problems forever. I have no idea how long it will be before my next flare or slump, and I could always get knocked down by something else entirely.
Just today I overdid it, because it's easy to forget how exhausted my body still is when my meds kick in and I feel that steady, centered energy. So I will have to be more mindful that I am still recovering and take things more slowly.
And…
It feels really fucking good.
I'm wishing you comfort and spaciousness within your body. Please know you're welcome to share your own thoughts and experiences in the comments, or by emailing or DMing me. And as always, feel free to share if this resonated with you!
Idk, this was funny in my head, so I'm leaving it.
Sending you soooo much love, A! I, too, and feeling like I'm in a season of coming home to myself also aided by medication and I'm so glad for access! I hope you continue to come home to yourself and that you kick off your shoes a stay awhile.
I really dig the shake up into "flow with the go!" I think this was also a perfect way to describe your experience of being able to do more with the energy you feel on your meds. Flowing with the go (energy). So glad you are feeling better and hope you continue to recover and feel at home in your body. I too go through periods of nervous system overload, followed by flare-ups of pain, fatigue and overall malaise. It feels brutal at times, like my home (body) has become inhospitable...even as I know my body is really trying to help me come back to myself. I also loved the photo of the fog-shrouded forest. Thanks for sharing all this goodness.