I went for a walk this evening, and it was glorious! This is the most at peace I’ve felt in a long time and oh, am I thankful!
Lately I’ve been feeling the need to write again – to write my own stories, not just “work” writing. Several ideas have come to mind in the past few days, but I think it’s time to tell you a particular story: the night I went to the emergency room in China in the middle of…
Yesterday I visited a Chinese doctor, and since that’s a local experience not many of you have had I thought I would share the story with you.
Going for walks around our neighbourhood is helping me. It helps calm my mind. It helps stretch my body. It helps ground me, and give me a sense of connection rather than isolation.
I’m settling into a new place, a new routine, a new identity – and chronic pain is in the forefront again. I feel the limitations of my body constraining me near constantly. It is frustrating. So very frustrating.
Last week was rough. My body was tired, my emotions frayed, my mind fuzzy; I was full of anxiety and very much on edge. But then everything changed. In a day I went from feeling the worst, to the best, I have since I arrived in Australia. It was almost instantaneous. It was weird. But lovely and most welcome. I’m happy to call it both a miracle and a result of being well loved – which are, really, almost the same thing.
I enjoy having an outlet for my thoughts and I am constantly surprised that many other people are interested in those thoughts. As this year comes to a close I’ve been looking back over this year’s overlap between what I find interesting and what you find interesting – the posts that received the most traffic in 2014.
After nearly three decades of chronic pain the difference made by radically limiting my exposure to salicylic acid was near miraculous. It can be irritaing, but having a choice, and a measure of control, is amazing.
It’s hard to convey just how much mental energy went into pain suppression, so that I could actually THINK in the remaining part of my mind. There was sadness over things I couldn’t share in with my friends, and fear that I was seen as lazy for not joining in.
After ten years living in the thick air of Beijing, I still remember not only what smog looks like, but what it FEELS like. There are physical consequences to breathing smog (which I suspect has affected my health more than I care to know), but there is also an emotional impact to living in a darkened world.
I have a very low tolerance for salicylic acid, a naturally occurring food acid. When I cut my intake it makes a literally life changing difference. I’m sorry if I don’t like your food, but I’d rather be seen as a picky eater than be in pain.
Life is different overseas – not always harder, but always different. I love that so many expats go out of their way to help out friends – even the newest ones. Most are happy to help, because we’ve all been there.