So I went to the doctor and you're not gunna believe what he said is wrong with me.
I'm really quite stunned and disappointed truth be told.
He said there is absolutely nothing wrong with me. I am super healthy. No mono. No thyroid problems. No anemia. No pneumonia. Not even high blood pressure. I'm like, the epitome of good health. I'm the freakin' bionic woman.
He was talking. I could see his mouth moving. But I was thinking, Then why the hell do I feel like I'm dragging day in and day out? Surely there must be something wrong. Why have I been sick ALL winter? Why do my limbs feel like Jell-O at three-o-clock everyday?
And then I tuned back in to hear him say that dreaded of all diagnoses- stress.
How very obtuse and non-commital of him.
But deep down in the scratchy dark corners of my being I thought he might be right. Just maybe.
So I have a little stress. I do. I know. What?
Then the good doctor went on to prescribe exercise. Four days a week. Reaching my anaerobic threshold for at least fifteen minutes. It has something to do with adrenaline levels and a bunch of other scientific stuff.
In my brian I'm all, Are you kiddin' me? For the love of Pete man! You are sitting here telling me I suffer from too much stress, and, oh yeah, you need to add more things to your schedule?
Here's the deal-
Nothing is wrong with me and that means everything is wrong with me. I can't be the person I want to be without losing it. I can't do all that I want to do without feeling like the living dead. I can't. I'm not cut out for it.
I'm not the person I always thought I was. That hurts to realize. It's a little like when you are a kid and you realize your not as cool as your mom told you are.
So I have a choice. I can start cutting things out of my life. I can simplify. I can give up blogging and Secondsister. I could walk away from my studio. Shut the door for a few years.
Except I can't.
So I'm left with the doctor's solution. To have enough energy to keep up with my crazy life I'm gunna have to run faster, harder.
I'm going to have to get up early and go to the gym. Ew.
It's going to be hard.
But I owe it to the littles. They deserve to have a mom that can keep up. How can I justify running a business if I don't have the energy to make them dinner?
This is it. No excuses. I'm putting this bionic body to the test.
*Que Eye of the Tiger*
Damn it all anyway. I was sure it was mono.