Replace the need with love.

I just spent some time laying on my left side. I haven’t been able to lay on my left side since late 2015 when I was pregnant. This is kind of a big deal.

I started my IT band stretching two weeks ago. I had intended on a solid twice a day, but “done over perfect” will have to suffice. I usually do them once a day. I was called a “fucking hero” for this once a day business, and, for whatever reason, this has spurred me to do them daily with less stompiness. Strangest thing what a correctly placed string of words can do.

A week ago I started doing one set of exercises while laying on my right side. Tonight I laid in bed on my left side for about 45 minutes. It was conscious effort. It was a bit like being upside down. And I’m not sure quite what my organs thought of gravity from that direction. I believe it is all for the good tho. Funny enough, my left shoulder is screaaaaming at me for laying on it. That’ll take some getting used to.

Also today my big toes both still hurt like crazy. Worst day yet. But I feel stronger and able and like I’m finally not squandering my body. I’m doing good.

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I know it’s late, so please forgive my persistence.

I did my stretches tonight even tho I didn’t want to. Yesterday was go go go from 7am til after midnight. I couldn’t bear a second day of not making time for them.

New record for squats. Two weeks ago I could barely pull off seven. Today I hit three sets of ten. That feels pretty fucking stellar.

And a week ago I started one set of stretches where I lay on my left side. I took it slow and it was still pretty excruciating. Tonight that didn’t hurt at all. Progress is progress. I’m just going to keep at it, even if I have to stubbornly stomp my way through it every time.

Won’t let anyone dirty get through.

I have routines and rhythms that have become second nature to my day. Except a week and a half ago I tripped through my life a little, and I’m still trying to regain my balance.

Almost two months ago I thought I had a UTI. It provided the oomph I needed to start drinking ten cups of water a day. Being hydrated is amazing.

A week and a half ago I started incorporating stretching into my day. Twice a day. That also was amazing. Hard, but amazing. In the course of 72 hours,  it so quickly jumped from twice a day to once to none at all and, talented as I am, I managed to let the water go with it.

I can’t allow that to happen. I should be using my talent for good.¬†Stretching and water are non-negotiable. So I came here to write it out to remind myself who I need to be to reach my goals.

Every little thing.

I went to a doctor last week. Anyone who knows me, knows this is significant. I don’t do doctors. I don’t like doctors. I don’t trust doctors. I saw an obgyn when I was pregnant and I take my son to his checkups, and even all that gives me anxiety.

But I have insurance, and a doctor everyone speaks highly of is on said insurance, and so I sucked it up and made an appointment and waited the six weeks and finally went to the doctor.

And I was incredibly disappointed.

I was hoping to feel heard, and I didn’t. I was hoping for a meaningful prognosis, and got the same old story. I was hoping to feel hopeful, and left empty handed.

Well, not completely empty handed. I left with two prescriptions. One, I was told was an anti-inflammatory, and the other I was told was like a mild muscle relaxer, so that I could sleep on my left side without pain, which is something I haven’t done in over two years.

I was given IT band exercises to do, which I’m already very well versed in, (and I found it strange she mentioned my iliotibial band by name not once), and a follow-up appointment with the promise of feeling completely restored. I wanted to be hopeful. Her attitude sure made it seem like everything was wrapped up all neat and tidy with a little bow on top.

When I left I looked at the prescriptions she ordered for me and I immediately deflated. The anti inflammatory she prescribed was a steroid. A steroid I had specifically told her another doctor tried to “fix me” with, which had done nothing.

I decided to switch gears and re-evaluate. Maybe this was what I needed right now. Maybe it didn’t work eight years ago, but it’s the jumpstart I need today. I am committed to following through with this and knowing I did everything I could.

So I sucked it up.

I decided to get the medicine. I’d do the exercises. I’d give it my all. She wasn’t the doctor I was expecting or hoping for, but I wasn’t going to let it stand in my way.

Later the pharmacy called and left a message about an insurance issue. Just another curveball the universe was throwing my way to challenge my commitment. No worries. I resolved it and all was good. And then I googled the second prescription the doctor ordered.

Sigh.

At the appointment, she had asked me how I sleep and I said fine, good, 7 hours minimum. I also said I only sleep on my right side because I can’t put pressure on the left. She said she was going to prescribe a muscle relaxer. I told her I am very sensitive to medication and didn’t want anything. She said it was just to help me sleep (remember the “I sleep fine” part?) and “we’re going to get you sleeping on your left side again!” and I thought, “that would be great!

Fast forward to the Google search.

She prescribed me a freaking anti-depressant. The whole wide world blinks in confusion.

So I spent another while reevaluating and being angry and frustrated. I felt betrayed. Here is this woman who met with me for barely 15 minutes, who is supposed to have a responsibility to each human being she meets with and she thought it would be okay to fuck with my perfectly functioning brain.

I was insulted and hurt and so freaking astounded.

This woman had no idea the challenges I’ve overcome with depression and ppd and anxiety and ocd. She didn’t know the years of trauma I’ve fought or the binge eating disorder. She didn’t know my story or what I’ve been through. She didn’t know that there was a significant time in my life I needed the anti depressants to help me find my way to equilibrium. She didn’t know the months I spent titrating off of said medication, while anxiously waiting to find out if my brain could retain equilibrium on its own.

She had no clue. And she recklessly prescribed this medication to me without thought or even the decency of telling telling me what it was.

Finally I came back to myself. And I remembered that I can trust me. And I made the decision to follow all of this through, within reason. I decided I’d take the anti inflammatory. Hopefully it would jumpstart the healing of my IT band syndome.¬† Hopefully IT band syndrome is the thing that’s the matter with my body. Time will tell.

I won’t even fill the anti depressant. The pharmacy can keep it. And I’ll start taking turmeric, a good anti inflammatory, as well as magnesium. And I’ll do the exercisss every day and we’ll see.

I went to the doctor, which I’m proud of, and I trusted myself, which I’m even more proud of. And I have a plan. Today that finally feels good.

For all this.

Time tick tocked by like time does and here we are. Five days of medicine behind us. Five days of four hour delays for feeding my littlest. Five days of random, mostly innocuous side effects. And now it’s finished.

I’ve also had five days of stretches. Five days of getting stronger. Five days of increased duration of stretches. Five days of increased mobility. I can’t quite tell any difference in the regular day to day things, but I’ve gained marked improvements in the stretches themselves. 10 seconds became 30. 7 squats became 2 sets of 8. Chris says he has noticed a difference. I’m just gonna keep doing them and see where the progress takes me.

I looked into your eyes and saw a world that does not exist.

Food is food is food. I don’t really have anything to add.

I changed my caloric goal on myfitnesspal today. I’ve been eating under 1600 calories a day for a week. Except yesterday. I wanted to make sure it was a good fit before I changed it.

Today I went to see my friend who is trained in diastasis so that she could check me. She said it’s not really that bad. There’s an area that’s two finger widths, but the rest is fine. And at my belly button, it goes deep, instead of wide, but it was kinda in the middle between good and bad and so easily fixable too. She told me not to worry about taking the workshop. She gave me some good exercises to do to open my chest a little bit and strengthen my core and also some stretches and spinal alignments to do on the foam roller. I’ll look up exercises for obliques because that’s supposed to help too.

This morning with food was really good. This afternoon felt a lil rough at points, and dinner could have turned into something unnecessary, but I navigated and I’m proud of the choices I made. Now I just need to get more water in me before 10pm each night.

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1457 calories 16 fiber