I have a stuffy nose that is contemplating turning into a rushing river of liquid down my face, but the floodgates are still (barely) holding back. My brain is foggy and my eyes are tired. It hurts a little to swallow and I don't have much of an appetite.
It seemed like a good idea to sleep in, but then I couldn't really so laid in bed an hour blankly staring at my phone. It seemed like a good idea to finally try Naturewell to get some cold-pressed juice and a pitaya bowl to boost the immune system, so I did expecting an instant miracle. (If you consider going to the bathroom a dozen times a miracle, than it has done the job.) It seemed like a good idea to ride my bike to get out of the house to work on lingering job applications, but the foggy brain has taken over.
So I decided to write a blog instead. Not necessarily about anything profound or honestly that interesting, but just a day in the life of a sick Lindsey.
Here's the punchline: Today I have tried within the means that I am able.
Sure, I could have tried harder, but at least I tried. At the end of today I can look back and see that even though they were only the littlest of things, I did them, rather than giving up or giving in.
In this place of life where I am pursuing and then waiting, hurting and then healing, always unsure of what the next day will bring, not giving up or giving in is a huge victory for me. Trying is a big victory for me.
It means that I am not allowing my outside circumstances and the unfairness that (I feel like) has been handed to me rule my life. It means that I am going for it, some days slower and more difficult than others, but I am standing. I am fighting. I am trying.
Hopefully by tomorrow I can try a little bit harder with a clear nose, a clear brain, clear eyes, and a clear heart.
For today I need a box of tissue, lots of water, a hug, and rest.