Energy, or lack thereof.
Routine broken open, its rigidity in pieces.
A fall from the teeter totter into full-face awareness. Splat.
I always wrote my way through lows–blog posts, other essays, and sometimes journal entries. Then, no writing, just words. My time as a writer seemed over. Splat.
I turned to jigsaw puzzles and online strategy games, pulling together options offered by others to resolve their mysteries. And when I finished, the results belonged to others.
I felt empty, physically worn out, and on vacation, emotionally. Wherever I was, I hoped I was enjoying myself. I was not present and had not been for quite a while. Some vacation.
I decided it was the weather, the “actual” winter Florida was having, snow AND cold but as my primary care physician told me, “It hasn’t been cold all that time.”
“All that time” was at least two months. I never hurry my visits to physicians. I want to give my body time to heal itself before I ask for outside help.
Also a fair point. Mostly.
Words streamed, just out of focus. Sometimes, words appeared to be sentences but at best they were notes. I slept. A lot. Or I dozed, unable to reach REM.
Initial blood tests revealed my autoimmune issues were under control yet I had the fatigue of flu, weakness in my legs, exacerbated tingling in my hands and arms, digestive issues, and once again, I walked like Frankenstein’s monster.
And the writing stayed still, words without roots. A blog post or two forced the writing out of reach altogether.
Further blood tests looked more closely at my chronic anemia, probably a folate and B12 deficiency most likely due to methotrexate, the drug primarily responsible for keeping my autoimmune issues in balance.
Once again, a rock and a hard spot situation.
I take folic acid supplements daily but I had slacked off the B12 supplements believing my diet sufficient, which it was but the longer methotrexate is in my body, the greater its demands.
Immediately, I returned to taking B12 supplements but it also meant changing my diet, my rock of routine, but in truth, I was not taking full advantage of the menu available to me.
Eight years ago, I changed my eating and the way I live. It took about two years for me to get a fundamental understanding of nutrition and how my body processes food. Lots of experimenting. Lots. But I stopped when I found “my” group of foods.
Such is being intractable in an impermanent world. And that works only for so long, for what goes up must come down. Aim for even is the art of teeter tottering.
So, here I sit with the full menu of food available to me, trying new entrées and sides. I’m actually enjoying myself. There are many new possibilities to boost my B12 and folate levels, as methotrexate and other chemicals change my body’s nutritional needs.
Words have returned. I string together sentences, if not always paragraphs. Thoughts stray here and there on the screen, as usual, but words have roots, again.
In a rock and hard spot situation it is not the amount of space, it is filling up the space available.