Three weeks ago as I lingered between sleep and sub-consciousness, I felt an elephant sitting on my chest. My chest felt tight and breathing was labored. I weathered it for two days, fulfilling many of my day-to-day responsibilities by pushing through. By day three I was down and day four I placed a call to my doctor. The diagnosis, influenza, pain meds would bring some relief, bed rest, a rough weekend coming, but much better by Monday.
I had great plans for Monday, feeling better and resuming normal activity. Monday came but feeling better didn’t. I found myself sluggish and needing many naps. For days I moved from chair to chair resting, and watching things pile up. The days passed but feeling better came very slow.
I have a friend who knows me well and speaks wisdom into me, both affirmation and accountability as needed. I trust her, even when her words challenge me to look deeply into places that require growth.
Our discussion began with the foods we fuel our bodies with. I was honest about my struggle with sometimes making poor food choices that my body won’t digest well and may cause me a midnight meeting with a bucket and the toilet.
Our talk moved to a photo she’d sent me, a woman standing in front of a bull who clearly has something to say. My challenge for the day; “what is the bull saying to the woman?” I assumed he had something to say about her food choices. I had no answers, but we left the discussion with me welcoming the offer to ponder the possible conversation between the two.
The last part of our discussion was her encouragement that I check in with my physician.
As I pushed through my day my pondering centered around food choices. I thought of the little girl who wasn’t sure there would be food for me unless I was in school. I offered understanding to my love of sweet flavors, remembering my self-prepared menu of sugars, bread, butter and coffee. But the adult me has no fear of not having nourishment. Why is the child in me living a struggle with foods. What does she need? Lots of questions, but no answers. Still, I was willing to stay curious about the conversation between the woman and bull.
I took my friend and daughter’s advice and saw my physician. I sat in the room waiting for the doctor to enter, feeling foolish for taking his time and spending unnecessary money. I comforted myself by reasoning at least I could get my annual blood testing, making the doctor visit appropriate.
The doctor’s diagnosis, bronchitis and walking pneumonia. Medication ordered and further rest prescribed.
As I drove home, a serious conversation between the bull and woman began to swirl through my mind. The words were those I had told myself over the past two weeks.
Bull: “Get yourself off the coach and get busy. You’re not sick anymore. You need to get motivated and moving. You’ve rested enough! You don’t need to see the doctor. You are fine!”
Woman: “I hear you. I’m trying. I’ll push myself and get it done. I’ve rested long enough. At least I used the appointment to get the needed blood test.”
As I hear the words, I take ownership that I’m the bull talking to me. And more sobering, I am abusing myself. As a child I hid my illness to keep from further harm and the reality that I Â wouldn’t be offered care or medicine. That was then. The only person keeping me from seeing the physician now was me.
I’ve been here before. I’ve grown and learned many ways to offer myself kindness and take back power for the inner child and me. And, the wound is vast and there is more opportunity for deeper self-care.
I want the goodness of caring well for myself.
I want the little me and the adult me to both share in the choices made.
As I tuck my to-do list away and snuggle in my jammies and warm, fuzzy blanket, I rerun that conversation with the bull.
It goes something like this.
Woman to Bull: “OMG! Buzz off! Go back where you came from. I don’t need to do anything until my body is healed. I am worthy of rest and self-care. I can make good choices to fuel my body. I am full of goodness!”
Valerie Avery offers her stories as a traveling companion for others seeking renewed life after the trauma of abuse, through her writing and work as Director of Embraced by Hope. Some of her story is published in a newly released book entitled “Jesus Talked to me Today” and is available on Amazon. The bond of 50 years of marriage with her man has created a legacy as mother to 5 and “Grammie” to 20. She finds solitude in creating art and beauty using fibers, beads and nature. You can read more at valerieavery.blogspot.com
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First of all, what a beautiful, trusted friend you have to offer you that picture analogy that got you thinking about what you were dealing with – a bull(y) pushing you around and making you feel like you didn’t deserve care. I think we all deal with that bull some, but especially those of us who didn’t receive good and loving care as a child. We were taught we weren’t worth others’ time or attention or nurturing. We had to toughen up – get in the ring and do the best we could with what we had. And we were children!
Valerie, I always enjoy your honest writings and I think you are a beautiful person with so much wisdom to offer others who may be struggling similar struggles as you. I am so proud of you for taking off your red cape and saying “Toro” to that bull and slaying him. You are a force to be reckoned with. And you’ve encouraged others to do the same. TORO!
Thanks Barbara for the visual of a red cape. I get it. At times a red cape was put over us when we were young. Now we have the choice to put on the red cape or not. I choose NOT! And I’m hopeful you are choosing NOT as well. Thanks for your words of affirmation. TORO to us all !!
Good words Valerie ~ Sometime putting a picture in front of ourselves makes the “real” much easier to see and enable us to put it all into perspective. Self abuse is as ugly as the massive bull ~ love your words to “your” bull !
I am grateful that you have are a noticer of out of the ordinary sayings and photos that when shared, often prompt me to ponder deeply. I love your very truthful comment “self abuse is as ugly as the massive bull”. What a picture to keep in my mind. Thank you friend.
Brava Brava Brava, beautiful woman! Thank you for sharing this powerful piece of intimate soul work…your words touch my heart and offer good fodder for my own soul, Valerie. Love to you this day and good health in all ways.
It’s always a good feeling when I get honest and open about places I haven’t yet conquered fully toward healing and it affects another for good. Good fodder is often what your words offer me as well. Yes, good health in all ways to us all.
Ha, I think a bull lives in me as well. Thank you for sharing this. It is a good reminder for me about self care. I’ll deal with the bull of guilt another time. Hope you are feeling well today 💜MJ
Self care ought to come naturally. As in infant it did, but life challenged us both to become so hard on ourselves. It’s time for the bull to go! We are worthy of so much more. Yes, I am well as of this writing and grateful. Hoping the same for you, friend.
Valerie, I loved how you caught me from the beginning. I am so sorry that you have been ill. Very ill. I hope that you are feeling better. I love that you remembered your young self and were tender to that little girl who went to school hungry. And, I hate that you had to suffer that. Such a wise and tender entry. Thank you.
I am nearly back to good health and grateful that illness is not often my companion. This journey has taught me a number of things, one of them being more empathetic to those who struggle with continual poor health. I’m looking at my hunger differently as well these days, remembering the young hungry child, and determined to care well for her adult body. Thank you for holding my story with such kindness, Becky.
Seeet humor of God to read this while I am recovering from pneumonia. Things are piling up and my choice is only to rest. I notice your cozy pajamas and soft blanket sounds like kindness.
I so hope my words are encouraging you to rest in your pajamas and soft blanket, offering yourself kindness. Your body deserves care. Pneumonia is not our friend. I’ve found that those things that piled up were still here when I recovered and some of them weren’t nearly as important as I fussed about when I was down. Some actually went away or took care of themselves. Rest well friend.
Good perspective!
I have a friend who knows me well and speaks wisdom into me, both affirmation and accountability as needed. I trust her, even when her words challenge me to look deeply into places that require growth.
Speaks Wisdom and Life. Great blog.
Praying you are feeling better…it’s it gracious of our God to use every situation to draw us to HIM, if we would only be a “careful listener”.