Contemplating life right now you could say I’ve been quite at peace, considering the excessive amounts of stress and suffering endured over the last two years. I’d finally reached a truce with my parents and dare I say it found a new alliance; something which unusually externalised one day. Financially I am free and no loner tethered to those greedy banking institutes. Now, funds that appear in my account, stay in my account. I’m actually saving money for the first time in my life. Which is somewhat bizarre and a feeling I am not really familiar with nor am I comfortable with either.
That said I have also splurged on little luxuries like a pair of Nike Roshe One’s and a new Rebecca Minkoff handbag (or two, I actually brought two! Can you believe it?). And while I’ve finally found peace in my outer surroundings it would appear that my body has decided to take the podium and declare mutiny.
My body is asserting war against me.
And it is the ultimate betrayal.
It first began with my brain sending false statements to vital organs in my system. Chest pains here, tingling there and burning sensations everywhere, sending all rational thought into utter madness. Panic attacks one day, anxiety the next. Shooting pains and grim palpitations have become my new norm.
My right foot is in pain, perhaps from being seated and rested on for lengthy periods of time. My skin isn’t luminous nor is it lively. It’s dry and there are far too many unchangeable dry patches that cling to my foundation making me look like a sickly leper. The small amount of greys that are wickedly taking root on my scalp have become far too vulgar and brash; noticeably jutting out like weeds. Last weekend my silly little pinkie finger suddenly swelled and contorted into a blackened red grape. It become the main reason for such panic and disarm over the weekend actually. I don’t know what caused my blood vessels to suddenly combust but they did and it left my finger incredibly sore and impotent and my brain churning out preposterousness.
Then there is my back, which began its incessant aches and discomfort, early last year. It has kept me unwelcomely wide awake through the night, giving me at best four hours rest. Perhaps my ten plus year old mattress is proving to not provide sufficient comfort to her royal highness? Or perhaps it has something to do with my spines alignment being slightly off centre. Something my doctor seems to think is of concern. But something my physio says is actually quite common and needn’t not be overly distressed over. He thinks my problem lies in my spine locking into place after long periods of stagnancy, hence the sleep depravity.
So is it curable? I still have no straight answer.
But I don’t care right now because I’m all about ready to throw the towel in. I am exhausted and not just because my thyroid is under active (oh, hello weight gain, your presence suddenly makes an awful lot of sense). The thing is Universe, I want a new body. I want to trade in my unattractive, run down system for a new, shiny model. One that is slimmer, toned and defined, tanned and leggy at that. Most of all I want a new body that promises to never cause misery nor dull over time.