I am in a very bad mood. Because I had to call out sick from work today due to back pain. I tend not to take these back pain incidents of mine very seriously, since they are usually caused by nothing, and go anyway without me doing much but suffering through it.
Last night I just stepped inside my front door wearing the boots I wear all the time and knew immeadiately something was wrong. And it was definitely still wrong this morning.
I had every intention of going to work anyway, because I HATE TO ADMIT DEFEAT. The thought that I really CAN'T do something makes no sense to my brain.
But I got up, and I made it out to vote on foot, and it was pretty crazy because I was limping really bad and had to walk so slow it took me almost an hour to make to the polling place (someplace I could ordinarily reach in about ten minutes) and I was still planning on going to work until I was getting ready in my room and I had been standing still in front of the mirror and I went to take a step and I screamed involuntarily. And then had a really hard time making it the three steps to pick up my bag.
Ok. Don't know how I'm going to be standing on my feet all day and bagging groceries if I can't PICK UP MY BAG. This was clearly obvious from the moment I got out of bed and limped my way into the shower, yet it took me THREE HOURS of being in serious pain and walking around as if I wasn't to believe it.
Why is it so hard for me to take care of myself?
Guilt. Refusal to admit defeat. Some degree of embaressment over having a stupid pain thing affect me. Because someone joked about back pain making me old last night. Because being physically strong is very important to me.
And I know,
because I will feel better later today, because the only thing I can do for this kind of pain is rest, that when I feel better I will feel even more guilty over having given in, because I'll make sure I don't remember that this rest really was necessary.
And beat myself up over how I should have just gone to work. When really, I couldn't. I would habe prefered to have. Because now I feel bored and displeased with myself and out of my body and restless.
I'm going to try to enjoy being in my bed and reading about ten of my favorite novels and wearing my pajamas and a stolen orange t-shirt that still kind of smells like someone and listening to a lot of music. And remembering that this sort of pain is all psychic and stress related and that being nice to myself is something that I need to do ocasionally or I will be unable to walk.
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