My recurrent illness is a symptom of a much greater problem.
The issue isn’t only physical but emotional. It’s spiritual.
I realize it is a lesson that only chronic physical pain can teach.
It is a black hole of darkness. It is a light.
It is a ticking time bomb. It is a gift.
My pain is my savior.
I realize I don’t believe I deserve to be taken care of so I’ve refused to ask for and accept help.
Simply put, I don’t believe I deserve to be well.
A health issue that would have been solved with proper care and treatment by engaged and curious professionals has become a personal science experiment.
Another example of me choosing to struggle on alone believing only I can fix it.
I have refused again to surrender to a higher power that I know exists.
11:11 is everywhere as I take my first baby steps forward.
I have treated my body as if I have another one to trade. It still thrives.
I have treated my mind as if I have the ability to function without it. It still chooses gratitude.
I have treated my heart as if it isn’t the sole reason I dance or feel joy or remain childlike and alive. It still beats.
I need to treat myself better. I matter.
Use this bottomless well of loving kindness and wise words I’d offer to a friend or relative on myself instead.
I do not have to suffer in silence.
A little girl learned that technique far too long ago. I will show her a new way.
I am not alone.
I am surrounded by compassion and empathy the second I stop to look for it.
I am loved.
Shame is a problem all of the drugs in the world can’t fix. Love, only love, can help.
I decide to choose again.
I decide to choose better.
I decide to take action.
Excuse me, can you help?