I’m having a bad day, friends. My body is in meltdown mode, sensory issues through the roof. I want to scream, rip my hair out, tear my skin off, flail about and lose all sense of sanity. I can’t stand the way clothes feel. I feel like my nerves are electrified, tensions exploding, running up and down along all nerve pathways. My eyes are blurry and burning. My nose tingles with tears. My hair hurts. My muscles are extra stiff and my joints, extra tight. Light is crushing. And the persistent chill I am feeling isn’t just annoying, it makes my whole body sting and shudder. I was trying to write my blog post for this week and I can’t even think straight, my brain so sluggish and slow, my processing speed, sludge. My hands ache and this is only making sense because of autocorrect. 

A degree of this is every day for me, and most of the time it’s bearable because it’s not all happening at once, but then there are days  —today—  where it hits all at the same time and is so intense that I can hardly function. So, this week’s promised blog post on “Attending to” will have to wait for another day when my capacity isn’t zapped by simply breathing (and not losing my s&^%). 

Is this complaining? Unprofessional? Bad that as a Life Coach, I share when I have bad days, too? Does my transparency cheapen what I have to offer? No, no, no and no. This is simply my reality. And today, I’m deciding to share it authentically rather than trying to push through and force something that’s just not there. Maybe by me doing so, empathy for cancer patients will deepen. And serve as a reminder that surviving is a big deal. Showing up, even when it’s simply to breathe, is remarkable. So for what it’s worth, be encouraged to show up. Breathe. And that’s enough.