Sugar, Alcohol And The Price We Pay

I don't know about you all but I sure indulged over the holiday weekend! I ate, drank and was merry for a rollicking 3 days straight. I ate cookies, cheesecake, chocolate and bread pudding. I drank brandy & eggnog, sangria, champagne and red wine (not all at once!). I ate pork shoulder, filet mignon, stuffed salmon and pretty much as much as I possibly could! I have not done yoga or walked the dogs in days. I had fun indulging and pretending there would be no consequences for my actions. Was it worth it? I don't know, the jury is still out. But I woke up this morning with a SPLITTING headache. Not a stroke headache, not to worry, but a bad one none the less. My body hurts, I am not sure what the word motivation means, or if I have ever even heard it before, and am in a post-holiday flare to rival all flares! I am tired, achy, whiny, lazy and...still in bed at 2:30 in the afternoon! I did manage to take Yorkie & Porkie out and feed them breakfast at least, but that is LITERALLY all I have done today. And I feel not one bit guilty for indulging my self-induced symptoms, for I need to recoup in order to regroup and don't regret enjoying my holiday.

It is insane this tight little balance beam I must walk in order to keep my Fibromyalgia symptoms in check. One slight misstep, one itty-bitty sway, and I am knocked off and have to climb a proverbial mountain to get back on again. I allowed myself to go WAY off the reservation this last weekend and sit here in a post-gorged daze, wondering how to get back on track, how long it will take. This is life with Fibromyalgia. Constantly having to weigh action vs. consequence. The foot-loose and fancy free girl from my youth is now a calculatingly careful decision maker, knowing that for every action there is a reaction. Most of the time I chose wisely. But the times I do not I pay dearly without fail.

I have spent years beating myself up for this pattern. So irritated with myself when I feel bad. So mad I made the choices I made. But that kinda defeats the purpose of the enjoyment of the indulgence and I have learned to release my expectations of perfection. I can now accept that 3 days of excess leads to at least 1 day in bed. I no longer beat myself up or get mad at myself. I may feel terrible and have a journey ahead of me to get my balance back, and sure won't be doing this again anytime soon, but man 'o man did I have fun! Practicing the art of acceptance and forgiveness of oneself is a lifelong journey. So as I resign myself to a day in bed, snuggled up with my snoozing pups, I am grateful for the fun I had over the holiday and anticipate resuming my normal activities that keep my Fibromyalgia managed tomorrow. I just wish  that darn cheesecake would stop calling my name from the kitchen...

Thanks for joining,

Leah

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