I don’t consider myself an overly vain person. I also don’t consider myself particularly girly. So when my life reverted to days on the couch in my pajamas, I kinda loved it. For a little while.
But sometimes I like to get dressed in people clothes and tame the frizzy curls into something resembling a head of hair. Sometimes I look at my closet and daydream about the days when I looked put together more often than not. Sometimes I scroll through Pinterest and wish I had the money and capability to wear the beautiful clothes I keep pinning.
Money aside, I know I will never be that put together again. It takes hours of planning and more spoons than I usually have to tame my frizzy hair into anything more than Medusa’s snakes. Wearing my jeans isn’t always an option, the zipper and buttons are too much for my swollen fingers to figure out. I haven’t been able to wear make-up successfully since I started my shots, my now uber sensitive skin breaks out simultaneously in patches of dry skin and blemishes if I even glance longingly at my concealer.
I’m in the midst of yet another flare, this one brought on by cold temps and winter storm fronts, though I’m far from the polar vortex, thank goodness! Or possibly the flare is in response to my busy whirlwind last two weeks. Either way, I woke up this morning hurting and wallowing in a pity party for one. When I normally would have dragged myself out of bed to curl up on the couch, I instead waved goodbye to my fiance from the comfort of bed and snuggled back under the blankets. I played games on my phone while whining to myself how unfair it all is.
And then I gave myself a swift kick in the backside.
I dragged my (probably) smelly self off to the shower. Once I was clean, I found comfy clothes that weren’t exactly pajamas. Yes, I may have borrowed a shirt from my fiance’s side of the closet and my pants may be leggings, but I am NOT wearing pajamas. I piled my wild curls into a clip instead of my usual messy bun. I plopped myself in my trusty recliner and told myself I was going to get some work done today.
Because it all hurts. And it’s going to hurt whether I’m lying in bed or sitting upright. It’s going to hurt while I play games on my phone and while I type these words to you. So if it’s going to hurt anyway, why not do something to pull my mood out of the funk? Why not try to do something that will make me smile through the pain?
On days like today, I have to work hard to remind myself that even the smallest achievements are something to be proud of. I’m still here, I’m still fighting, and that’s a pretty big deal. So what if all my day consists of is cookies and trash TV?
It all matters, folks. Even if it all hurts. Especially then.