I’m not feeling especially well. After a few days of feeling really good, I guess I should have expected this, but I was hopeful. In any case, I still needed to get some words out of me.
My sleep last night was deep, or shall I say this morning, because I can’t seem to fall asleep before midnight. It’s very unusual for me to sleep so deeply that I don’t dream or instead that I don’t remember my dreams. Highly sensitive folks tend to have extremely vivid dreams because our brains are processing lots of information–another reason why sleep seems so fleeting.
There was a television show like that where the main character didn’t know when he was asleep because it was like he was living in an alternate reality every time he closed his eyes, and in each of his realities, he had a mission to save someone he loved. I really liked that show. I could relate, except the only person I’m trying to save is myself, and maybe he was too?
Anyhoodle, this week is my surgery anniversary. Three months ago, I was under the knife having my toxic breast implants removed.
I still don’t regret my decision to evict those boob bags. It’s a relief not to feel like something fake and hazardous is in my body. I’m all me, baby! But I was really looking forward to feeling loads better than I do. I was looking forward to having nice little boobies and having all my health issues magically disappear.
Well, that’s not what happened. I don’t want to think that my surgeon screwed me since I have one somewhat normal boob and no boob at all… as in flat … pancake flat … with an ugly fold under my nipple.
Yeah, yeah, yeah… I’m supposed to love my body no matter what. And I know that I am more than my boobs. And it’s probably too soon to expect a full recovery since I had implants for over 20 years, so my body still has lots of detoxing to do. I get all that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t feel great today.
Today, I’m reminded of the awful brain fog from BII and likely menopause because I can barely connect my words as I type. I’m reminded of how my joints hurt because I can barely reach my arms above my head, and walking feels like a chore. My eyes are puffy. My back aches. And I just feel like the walking dead. Drama, much?
Okay, it’s not all bad, I guess. Since having surgery, I can take deep breaths, which I’m reminding myself to do now.
My brain fog isn’t as thick as before — I’ve been getting a shit load of writing out — real words and real feelings I couldn’t express before surgery. I’ve made friends — online, of course, because I’m still an introvert and prone to social anxiety, but my desire to connect with people has come back since the surgery.
And I’ve had some pretty darn awesome intimate time with the hubs this week … Yes, really good sex because, before surgery, I couldn’t spell libido, let alone experience any.
Writing this reminds me to take the small wins and that there is always something for me to be grateful for.
Sure, we know these things. You can’t scroll through a social media feed without seeing a smack load of inspirational quotes these days. But simply reading them and knowing them isn’t enough. Because there are days, like today, when I gotta dig deep to feel the reminders and put them into practice.
This post was originally written in January 2019.
