As longtime readers of my blog know, I suffer from rheumatoid arthritis. Dealing with a chronic illness is difficult, and every day is different. Some are fantastic, some are horrible, some are right in between.
But combine a chronic illness with getting a divorce and the stress level tends to skyrocket.
Yesterday, when I woke up in a flare, my mind shut down. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't deal with getting up and going to work. I couldn't deal with looking at my novel. I couldn't deal with looking at Facebook or Twitter. I couldn't deal with life. Period.
I spent the day in bed. I caught up on PBS's Victoria. I watched Mr. Holmes and The War Bride. That evening, my daughter and I watched Denial. It wasn't until 8:30 p.m. that I actually roused myself enough to go and pick up a few items we needed at the grocery store.
I think yesterday was another way my body and my mind worked together to try and protect me from serious harm. I could have pushed through and went to work, undoubtedly to make several mistakes, perhaps burst into tears from emotional and physical pain, and in general, have a rotten, no good, very bad day.
Instead, I stayed home in my little cocoon. And while I was in that cocoon, safe and warm, my body and mind were proceeding with the healing process, one in which I did not need to participate. I did not need to move forward or backward.
I just needed to be.
Our mind is a powerful thing. Somehow, it knew what I didn't: that it was imperative to go into "shut down" mode before things got worse. Learning to trust that instinct instead of fighting it is crucial.
Today, I'm still struggling (and I will be for a long while yet), but I'm better than yesterday. The old adage, "One step forward and two steps back" sometimes seems appropriate for my life. But there will be a day when it will be "Two steps forward and one step back" which means I will actually be making progress.
And in the end, that's what matters.