Sometimes I actively hate my body. Today is one of those times.
Yet again it has let me down. It has not lived up to its end of the bargain. It has promised me something and delivered only disappointed and pain.
It probably seems odd to you that I speak of my body in this way. Like an entity I do battle with. But that’s how it is for me. My body is my enemy. My monster in the night. My prison cell. My torture device.
I must be kind to my body. I must treat it with respect and not push beyond my limitations. I must rest when I need to and eat well, take my medications and generally do what I can to appease the beast. But what’s the point?
What’s the point when I do everything right, but still my body betrays me????
I do everything right yet I still end up with tears down my face.
The point is that I have to try. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be joking about it all again.