Why do I elect to have those challenges aggravated or poked?
I've been learning there are times when the pain I feel, feels like I won't survive. Like the time I had to have stitches in my foot in third grade. Six needles, six very loud screams, six times I begged my Dad to make them stop. I didn't think I'd survive the pain.
Then it stopped. I survived. The physical pain stopped. My crying stopped. My begging stopped. I was reassured there would be no more pain and it was true. I was bandaged up. I was given a sticker which I have in my Baby Book and a set of crutches to help me get around. The pain stopped.
But that moment, from the time I felt the piece of glass in the river where we were swimming cut my foot, to the time the Fire Squad cleared off a picnic table and moved quickly to get me on top of it to the time my Dad put me in the car and drove 65 mph to McHenry Hospital to the time I was wheeled out and saw my Mom and sisters waiting for me in the Emergency Room waiting room....all of that is seared in my memory as a painful moment. It was part of the whole experience.
Today I'm responsible for taking care of myself. I'm contacting my internist to ask if I can have my sleep apnea retested. All of my blood work is in line and other than my obesity and some high cholesterol, I'm on the right track.
Just yesterday I met with my psychiatrist. We meet once a month. He was surprised and happy to see the weight loss I've had since I last saw him. He asked how much I'd lost and I said seven pounds. I think that's correct but weigh-in for me is next Tuesday.
He laughed and said, "Amy, you need to be in the sunshine and 75 degrees!" I laughed and agreed with him. But I'd never leave my family. We discussed cutting out some of the mood stabilizers that induce weight gain to help me loose weight better. They were meant to be temporary to get me through the winter anyway so changes have been made.
Those changes have given me confidence that I can lose this weight. If it's tied to something emotional, I have my keen drill sergeant therapist ready to hammer at me to help me get to the core of what's going on.
Do you have a therapist like that? I swear, she can change from kind and encouraging into drill sergeant on a dime. Her nineteen years of experience and the permission I've given her to drill me make a tight and winning combo when it comes to receiving the same encouragement and kindness in the form of pushing me harder to get my therapy journey moving quicker. As much as I count on my therapy sessions each week, I would like to graduate in the next two years.
Why?
Because God has a book He wants me to write and I'm feeling better able to write it.
