For the past four days, I've been suffering from a migraine headache that varies in intensity from a mild annoyance, to "I think my brain might have actually imploded." My body is weak. My brain is weaker.
For the past seven years, give or take, I have known that I have a rare condition that afflicts mainly overweight women, mimics a brain tumor, and damages vision.
Upon hearing this news, I shed several pounds, the condition went into remission, and I put the experience into the very back of my mind, where I keep the things that "I went thru, but never have to deal with again."
Then I gained weight. And more weight. And now I am suffering from symptoms again.
And I am angry.
And I don't like to admit that my weight is having an actual, physical effect on another part of my body.
I have never felt more confident, more aware of myself, or more beautiful than I do inside this fat version of myself. It has taken a literal lifetime to shed those unhealthy body-image issues, and believe myself to be as worthy and valuable as a small person. It has taken me nearly three decades to abandon that uniform version of perfection, and love myself inside the skin I occupy.
And now, I may be forced to admit that this lovely fat softness might be, once again, a detriment to my overall health.
There are a lot of angry words I'd like to say about it. But right now, my brain is humming, my face aches, and I just want the pain to stop.
Even if that means I have to start taking active steps to reduce my body weight, rather than resting comfortably and happily at my current weight.
Grumble.
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