my medicated body and me
a journal entry on how my body and I have parted ways
Helloo again~ I’d like to start today’s letter with a little celebration, there are over 30 of you here now, wow ! Thank you so much for subscribing, if you look out of your window tonight and see the moon, you will see me there over it.
Today’s letter is a journal entry about my body. Technically, I have a chronic illness but I tend not to really throw that label about. I have been on medication for the past five years and throughout this time, my body hasn’t really felt like my own.
When I finished writing this I realised so much about myself, things I probably already knew deep down but writing it out like this really helps to bring things to the surface. (This is why everyone should journal !!) I am anxious, I am a bit of a hypo, but I am also on medication. Lots to explore! Pls enjoy x
Sometimes, I feel like my body betrays me, like it’s constantly working against me. But now I’m starting to notice when we are back in alignment, my body and me.
I don’t think about it often but sometimes my body feels completely separate from me. It’s like something that is attached to me I must look after instead of it being a part of me and we must work together. I think I just understood the phrase “Kids? I can barely look after myself!”. Our bodies are something external to ourselves, to cherish and protect until we can’t any longer. Maybe there is something after this life after all. What will we nourish next?
I notice a pain in my stomach and I have to decipher what’s wrong. I have to deduce the code. My mind doesn’t simply know, I have to test and record data. This food is fine, this food is not, my body doesn’t like this, my body thrives on that; it’s a learning process. We spend our whole lives learning.
The mind, the body, and me. Something religious comes to mind.
Yesterday, I woke up and I felt like my body was working against me, giving me all the signals that something was wrong but I wasn’t ill or in pain. All while I was trying to look after it. I am in the delicate moment between wakefulness and sleep, it triggers a coughing fit, stopping me from giving it the seven hours it needs to rest and recharge. Brushing its teeth as soon as I wake up, but its nose starts to run and dribbles into my toothpaste. It feels the urge to sneeze, threatening to spray toothpaste all over my bathroom mirror. The throat repeatedly cuts me off from speaking to a friend and to another friend, it aches in one place at a time I need it the most so I can be heard over the sounds of road traffic.
Why do we dislike each other like this sometimes? What are you trying to tell me?
My body is a Tamagotchi. Like a baby, I can’t keep my eyes off it for a second, like a cat, it threatens to knock a glass of water over my laptop resting open on the dining table. I observe the body at all times. What is this called? Is this normal? Do other people have such hyperawareness of their bodies? Does anxiety have yet another face?
Some people don’t feel like this way of course. Some people take coughs in the night as nothing but an inconvenience instead of a code that must be deciphered and monitored. Drink more water, C says, his solution to everything. He is one of those people whose bodies never seem to interrupt them. He just ignores the tickle in his throat, the random pain in his lower back. It’s just the language of the body, a signal it’s still there. A tiny hello, grabbing my attention.
I spend too much time in my head, not in my body, so it needs to jolt me every now and then.
I notice more when my body feels okay more times than when it doesn’t. My normal seems to be discomfort and I am surprised when my body feels calm, no ripples in the water.
Today we are good. I feel nothing. I got up on not a lot of sleep but I could make a cup of tea (without anxiety because I worked out she doesn’t like cow’s milk anymore), I could journal and write this. Later, I will walk on my treadmill, hopefully.
I must learn the language of the body. Learn not to panic when she just says hello. Try to reconnect with her once in a while. Somehow we got off track, my medicated body and me, but I think we may be able to meet in the middle again soon.
Thank you for reading quiet reflections. Please leave a like or a comment to let me know you enjoyed this! If you know someone you think would enjoy these, please share it with them too. You can also subscribe for free below.
thank you for sharing irene <3 it is a weird experience isn't it? I hadn't really thought too much about it until I wrote it down. your comment makes me so happy though, I'm glad you were able to relate in some way, I also now feel less weird about this!🩷
The way I relate to this is unreal. I've developed hypochondria over the years from all the things my body has gone through. It's like when one thing is under control, bam, the next thing hits me. I've been wondering if I've developed some psychosomatic symptoms just from the anxiety of it all. But like you, I'm slowly trying to recover and be more in tune with my body, to take the appropriate measures - I've ditched birth control and have adopted a different lifestyle to support my body/mind connection. I no longer want to just ignore the disconnect and end up in a rabbit hole of thinking I'll never live in peace.
We can rekindle the flame ♡