Since this diagnosis, I have been on a medicine that made me feel “three feet thick”. Emerged, temporarily from the fog and realized what a freaking mess I have waiting for me on the other side. And finally begun sorting out my emotions about finally knowing something. But the something that I know is that I know almost nothing. When I consult the literature, I find a range of points-of-view some dismal, some as skeptical as a doctor who thinks it’s not a condition.
So I went from being unable to write, to too busy to write, to too afraid to write. Because once I wade out here, I almost always discover something about myself I didn’t know.
One of the books fell open. The bold print on the page said, “Exercise will heal you.” I’m not gonna lie. There were an expletive. My daughter laughed.
I’m also clearly going to have to avoid caffeine.
And there are dietary things to explore, too.
Because I want to enjoy life.
As opposed to what I have been doing for the last several years.
It’s so worth doing.
How do you motivate yourself to move a mountain with a spork?