This week was my eighth week to be sick in the last three months. I’ve been trying hard to keep a good attitude, because I know this silly thing will pass and someday we’ll laugh about how the first three months of our marriage I spent most of my time stuck at home. But this week I decided to throw myself a pity party.
It wasn’t pretty, but thankfully it didn’t last very long.
I’m frustrated, tired of being tired, tired of hurting. Tired of barely making it through work, only to come home at the end of the day and crash on the sofa. Tired of not being able to work out. Tired of timing my meds so that they won’t make me sicker than I already am. Tired of going back to the doctor over and over and over.
I was told a few years ago that pity parties are okay, as long as they have a start and an end time. So I threw myself a mini-one Thursday night, wallowing in the feeling that life isn’t fair.
That party ended when I went to sleep. And now I’m over it.
I’m trying to do a better job of pacing myself, so I don’t completely run out of energy, and today was the perfect day to to recharge my batteries. Mr. Right let me sleep in, then we made a leisurely breakfast of waffles (my favorite), watched the new Harry Potter movie, then I went right back to bed for a nap and a good, long read. Tonight I’m going to a dinner party with some dear friends, and I should have plenty of energy to thoroughly enjoy myself.
I am blessed beyond measure. I am thankful for the health that I do have, and confident that this too shall pass… and soon! I am thankful for a sweet husband who dotes on me, and for friends who have been patient as I’ve had to cut back on my social life. It’s only temporary.
Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
1Thessalonians 5: 16-18 (NIV)