Sunday, December 8, 2013

Litmus Of The Staircase

Nothing shines the flashlight of scrutiny on my flaws quite like admitting to them. From that point forward I can no longer bury my head in the sand, rely on denial, or let excuses placate me into doing nothing about my problems. It's overwhelming, how utterly undone my life became. The more I do to organize, simplify and progress it, the more I realize how far into the land of the lost I sunk. 

A few years back, when I was coming off high-dose Prednisone to treat two hemorrhagic strokes, I fell on my knees. It was winter, always a more painful time of year for me. Fibromyalgia and I were entrenched in a reunion of epic proportions, after the blissful psychosis of living on steroids for six months, relatively pain-free. When I tripped I landed with the full impact shooting up my knees, something like 100 daggers spearing into an egg. It was easily a good six months before I could do more than stiff-leg it down the stairs, and pray I didn't lose my balance. That was when I lived on the 2nd floor. 

Now I live on the 4th floor and have an elevator. I think it started as a silly challenge to myself. I wasn't exercising as much, and convinced myself if I could take the stairs up four flights every few days, it may help my bottom form a better shape. Like the big, bad wolf, I huffed and puffed and wanted to...go get in the elevator, every time I walked up those darn stairs. But I kept at it. Eventually that "I think I'm going to die" feeling turned into a satisfying burn on the back of my legs. I could just feel the cellulite melting away! The intensity of rejuvenating blood pumping health throughout my body! 

Now I take the stairs exclusively, save for carrying up groceries and such. Every single time I do, I think about the girl who couldn't walk down a single flight without crying, the pain was so extreme. When I remember the fear and uncertainty and confusion, as to how these were the problems my life had become about at the age of 34, or what the future would look like, I rejoice. I rejoice because I can. Just like I know I can walk into the next overwhelming step to reclaim my life, and be successful. Not the life I had before, but the one I need right now.

Thanks for joining,
Leah