I’d been fantasizing about the first day back to school after the holidays and was studiously counting the hours. That lovely alone time dangled before my eyes like the proverbial carrot, and kept me chirpy with the kids instead of short-tempered; my usual holiday-overload demeanor.
This year Christmas holiday had been extra trying. A friend stayed for a weekend; Christmas baking; pre-opt appointments for Elle; Elle and Max both missing most of their last week of school due to Elle’s dental (double graft) surgery, and Max’s having a flu. Being the fulltime hostess, nurse, housemaid, cook, baker, and entertainment-supplier had strained me.
But what mother can’t say the same? The holidays are great for the kids (although likely not so fantastic for mine this year given their limitations) but for us adults, a whole lot of work, work, work.
When their dad picked them up Christmas day I literally collapsed on the sofa only crawling off for food. I spent the entire day horizontal and by the evening still hadn’t any energy.
Hmmm, that’s was strange, wasn’t it?
Then my wonderful day arrived with the kids going back to school. I was going to do a million things just for me! Except that, I couldn’t.
The minute I sat down to make my list I got very, very sad. Sad? What? How can this be? Sad about what? This is my GREAT day. WTH!
And so I sat. And sat. I refused to engage with reading, social media, the telephone and didn’t even want to write—which for me is almost unheard of. Instead I was miserably, angrily, frustratingly, trapped in sadness.
From morning to night I was sad and I had no idea why. Of course I made up a bunch of things but none seemed quite the right complaint although I gave all a fair shake.
The only bright spot in my day was listening to Carla Coulson. Watching her video which, (thank God) was just her; authentic and real telling me that it wasn’t too late to have a life, even if you were me, a 56 year old single parent of two children with intellectual (and other) disabilities. Dare I believe her? I didn’t even know if it were possible. But Carla Coulson said so, and she was real, and sincere so I decided to give her a fair shake as well.
But I went to bed none-the-wiser about the sadness. And although the sadness had the feel of me, somehow it really wasn’t the present-day me. It felt pervasive, heavy and continuous. What was that I wondered as I dropped off to sleep.
I awoke my fine-regular self and later, a friend stopped by. I told her I had been sad the entire day and hadn’t known why. Wasn’t that odd?
Right after she left a series of little happenstances lead me to the answer. The sadness was in me but not the me I knew; the real owner of that sadness was… my liver. And just like that, I knew it was the truth. I believe saying it out loud lead me to the answer.
Accepting the truth of that sadness, emanating from my liver I was suffused with the tenderness of compassion—for my liver. How beleaguered and (no doubt) battle-scarred it must be. How uncomplaining as it processed every piece of shitty food I asked, no demanded it deal with, because it wasn’t my problem right? All I had to do was pick some fattening snack, dessert or food and let my poor liver deal with the rest.
So I turned over a new leaf; a liver-leaf and took myself off to the grocery store and told liver to pick what she wanted. She chose apricots. I couldn’t judge because all I had to do was recall what I’d been feeding my liver all these months. Shit.
Today liver said no glutens. Well, that was a pain in the ass. So much for easy apricots, but I’d made a commitment so I’m going to stick with it.
In the last two days this is how it went:
So this is where I also give a shout-out to Anthony William of Medical Medium. If you ever want to know how to heal your body he’s the man. And I mean THE man when it comes to health and nutrition. There’s no one else. Check him out.
So yesterday was 500 ml celery juice on an empty stomach and six or seven servings of fruit. Today no more glutens and I’m assuming keep up the celery juice and fruit intake. I’ve no idea what my good friend liver will say tomorrow but you can bet I’ll be doing it.
PS> I’ve been feeling fatigued and that particular sense of disowned sadness, off and on, (my God how long has liver been communicating and I haven’t been listening?) for a very long time. If you know someone my observations may help please send this along. And anything to do with food tell them to read Anthony William. Go to Soundcloud Medical Medium and look him up. Listen up.