Today began as a usual Monday morning… I awake with my furry lover curled in the crook of my knee, kiss him good morning and open the terrace door to let him out. In the bathroom, I remove my aligners, scrape my tongue wash my face… and then crawl back into bed. Half an hour later I awake again. Strange, I think, that never happens.
I move to the kitchen and fill the kettle with filtered water to prepare my morning hydration: 450 ml of warm fresh lemon and ginger. While the kettle boils I stretch. Left, right, hip circles, spine rolls. I’m feeling a little achy.
I take my lemon and ginger to the sofa and start my face yoga routine. The glands by my armpits ache a little. I massage them to activate the lymphatic system. I work my east up my chest neck and face and then prepare breakfast. Fresh strawberries with natural yoghurt and green tea. My body continues to feel achey so I dance, gyrate, stretch some more and then sit down to work.
Inbox zero and most of my DM’s replied the aches seem to increase. I try some more movement practices but nothing helps. I sit down to begin work on some copy for one of my programs but my body won’t comply. The aches turn into shakes and I realise I’m freezing despite the 23 degrees and full tracksuit and socks attire
I get back into bed. And shake and shake. It’s too much. I can’t stop. I go get a Valium, the one thing I self-medícate with and only on the rarest occasions. I get back into bed m, cover myself with blankets, and will my aching muscles to relax.
My mind wanders to a memory, to yesterday, Mother’s Day in many parts of the world and the pangs of sadness I felt about my motherlessness.
The tears come. Streaming down my face, wet pools mark the pillows of my bed as I grieve a childhood without a mother or father present in my life. I hold myself in my arms and let myself weep. I remind myself that ‘I’ve got me’. I know I need to feel this. I need to let it wash through me. The only way out is through.
I believe these physical symptoms are part of the surfacing of suppressed grief, guilt and shame around a situation where I was an innocent child on the receiving end of a host of adult unresolved traumas. It’s why I do this work. Because these patterns… end here. With us. With our willingness to process them, validate them, release them and choose new ways to illuminate the world with the precious gift each human is made up of love.
I stay in bed. The aches and chills are still with me. Yet I know this too, shall pass. My devotion is simply to stay with the wounded child within until she feels safe and loved again. Everything else can wait.