i have terrible cramps today. i've slept most of the day, trying to snooze away the pain.
there are one hundred million things i "should" do today. the apartment's a mess, the laundry's had a growth spurt, my taxes aren't done, i have job stuff to finish -- but i HURT.
i wish i felt well enough to do all the chores on my list, but i don't even have the energy to take a bath.
why is it that when we feel like hell, we still think we should be scaling mountains and single-handedly ending world wars?
why is it so hard to tell myself i'm allowed to lie in bed when i'm actually in too much pain to get out of it?
it's sort of like expecting ourselves to be super-skinny when that's...well -- impossible.
it's sort of like we're not allowed to be unhappy or sit with misery or discomfort, so we have to do something -- like eat or booze or take a pill, so we'll be as cool as the world wants us to be.
here's to be being allowed to be sick, being allowed to eat, being allowed to be feel crummy emotionally, being allowed to be flawed, being allowed to be human.
i'm going back to bed. i'm allowed