When my body failed me, I started to fail my body. My colitis played a key role in my self-loathing for much too long. My journey to self love...
Hook, bate, and sinker! I caught your eye!
But no, I'm not an ex-addict, or even a current one, by any clinical definition. The drug abuse I'm talking about is actually quite the opposite of what you may think.
As previously mentioned in my last self-care installment, I took a slew of medications. At one point, upward of 20 pills in a day. I also briefly mentioned the mental state that the prednisone left me in. While it saved my colon and significantly reduced the severity of my colitis, I was left feeling extremely disappointed in my body.
Looking back, I didn't realize how much self-hate I gave myself.
"Why do I have to take these pills?" // "Why can't I be normal?" // "WHY ME?!"
Just as I was feeling relatively ok, my body chose to give out on me again. One of the most long-term side effects I have experienced from colitis is the inflammation.
I was dancing again. A lot, as much as 20 hours a week between school team and studio. And then my shoulder became about 80 years old. I couldn't raise my right arm past a 90 degree or lift much weight at all. So, more drugs.
Oh did I love that stuff! Not only did it significantly reduce all of my inflammation, helping me to feel myself again, but it helped with my horrific period cramps. What woman would not want that!? Except that it can reek havoc in other ways. I took one nearly every day.
Eventually, my prescription wasn't refilled and I was back to the pain and immobility, and more of the "why me."
My next option, a cortisone shot.
Have you had one? Know of them?
Well, the needle, if my memory recalls correctly, is about 20 inches long and thick my pinkie. Maybe a slight over exaggeration, but it is seriously the biggest needle I've ever seen. Upon entering my shoulder and hitting the nerve, I passed out. The entire next day I was in a sling and no better off than when I started.
But back to the drug abuse.
While some teens cut, starved themselves, or binge ate, I deprived my body of the medication and nutrition it needed to thrive. While I wasn't in a horrible state, I continued to get flare ups, which likely could have been avoided.
It wasn't until someone noticed, that I realized exactly what I was doing. I was mad at my body, but also so used to being sick that I didn't understand what it was like to be healthy, to thrive, to love my body and all that it did for me. I didn't know what it was like to fully LIVE.
As soon as this self abuse was brought to my attention, she helped me refill my pill cases and I attempted to get on a routine.
But I still didn't understand the full meaning and importance of self love and caring for myself until years later when I tried the Whole30 diet as suggested by a very very dear friend of mine.
Next time, I'll start to share my food journey with you and my current path of self love!