Shrinking Into Me?

Introspecting about what's going on in my life - and what's NOT going on in my life - and hearing someone tell it back to me from their perspective is very compelling.

She pointed out that I'm not just getting through a massive bout of illness, but that I've been bombarded with new diagnoses from multiple angles, moved to a state I DID NOT WANT TO BE, came through a horrific divorce from a man I wanted to stay married to, had to put on hold a profession I VERY much wanted to be in, and am financially squeezed to pay for all the past and current medical expenses.

All that AND from the acromegaly I put on sonic fuck tons of weight so much that I didn't even know my own body. And now during treatment I'm losing weight so fast I don't even have clothes to wear on any given day that actually FIT. How does one LOVE their body- I mean REALLY LOVE their body when on any given day it's not even WHO I am?

This body isn't ME. And yet I reside in it. People have poked and prodded and fucked with it, all in the name of "better health" my whole life. They have neglected it and blamed me for it as well - all because I either didn't have insurance OR because OF COURSE a woman gets fat and the first thing you want to say is "stop being a pig and hoovering entire pies." AND THAT MAKES ME ANGRY TOO.

And now that I'm losing this weight my tits are saggy and my stomach is stretched out and it just isn't curvy and roundy and pretty to me. I'm still shedding the weight- but I don't even know who I am. I look in the mirror and my moon face (from prednisone) is gone but what's left? I don't know it.

Meanwhile - I question my friendships. I worry that I haven't been a good enough friend. And more- I worry that what I THOUGHT were good friends weren't. I worry that who and what I have loved were more fragile than I thought. Because that is how it goes again and again.

She pointed out the teenage years when young people are still formulating "who I am." And creating a sense of identity for themselves... And I HATE IT. I hate it. I hate that it is me. WHO WANTS TO BE THAT? Who wants to be creating a sense of identity when by now we should have our identities. We should KNOW who we are. We have spent our lives creating labels and norms for ourselves - making meanings and making sense of our world.

One guy (I adore him) asked me "who are you?" And I replied, "I am a woman who loves." Because I quite simply couldn't tell him. I have no idea. Do I reply, "I live in a liminal phase that I didn't welcome, dealing with illness that is getting better? Do I reply, "I'm healing from a divorce that my ex is already over and is already remarried to a new chick?" Do I reply, "I'm not supposed to be fat but I had a disease that created it - THIS ISN'T ME?" All of those sound like excuses and justifications. I just didn't KNOW what to say.

WHO I am has shifted so dramatically - as it would for ANYONE regardless of illness. But throwing this onto it has spun me so urgently I suppose there is no landing. I suppose that finishing my writing, finding a job I love, and moving and setting down some "concrete this is where I live" roots might do it. Rootedness and gardens and houses and living space and community has always been how people have created a sense of identity. We've created a family- either with our flesh and blood or through one of choice.

Being uprooted from much of what I knew and identified with didn't help. And right now- shifting meanings and allowing and developing who I am while still living in love and kindness is HARD. It's the hardest thing I've ever done. And frankly- I don't trust all the time.

Sometimes people have said they will pray for me. And I want them to. I want them to pray hard. Occasionally I get a notion that I will visit a shul or go to a quaker space/church... and then I don't. I just don't. I'm probably denying myself some sort of familiar concrete space by not going though... because when we create community with others, we HAVE that. And I have denied myself long enough. I just hedge against being "the single lonely woman" - and I'm NOT just one religion... and that perturbs me.

Alas- no one said this life would be easy. And it hasn't been. But I have found rewards. I have found great joy in much of my life. And as much as I have found pain and suffering, I have also found truly meaningful possibilities. Perhaps denying myself a community is not a good thing and I should explore it when I return from my trips.

And lastly- I'm terrified, absolutely terrified of going to Atlanta, San Fran, and Portland over the coming weeks. Nothing terrifies me more. But it is time. I will be staying with friends. I have doctors appointments. I can rest when I need to rest. And it is TIME to travel, visit, and move out of my shell. I generally get agoraphobic - and when I do - the best thing in the world is to face the fear and do it anyway. NO ONE can say I lived a life defined by my fears or my illness. I BOUGHT MY TICKETS YESTERDAY.