The one who has to bend…

In a forest of tall trees, I am the mutant, the one who has had to bend and find a different direction. Living with an autoimmune disorder for the second time around is, different. You know, on one hand, there are ways to feel better, to heal. But it is the elusive diagnosis process. The food elimination process to get through. The stages of mourning, shock, anger. And one day you find a type of acceptance as you learn to live a different life. And you hope to come out the other side able to explain to others what you feel like, what you felt like and offer some hope to help others.

I am still in mourning, far from acceptance. I am depressed and angry. But I am learning to move and flow slowly. Then I round a corner and feel jagged, like pieces of broken window blown out all over a sidewalk. As if a TV had been thrown out of a second story window of an old Victorian house at a frat party. Sharp, punctured, stitched rudely together like a rag doll found by a homeless person in a dumpster.

Taking to the trails, beaches, marshes, I look for light, softness, hope. These photos were taken the day I met with the nutritionist. We discussed gluten-free living, and approached the subject that I may also be casein intolerant (an inability to digest milk proteins) and perhaps corn. It’s a lot to take in. I am still trying to cope with the Celiac Diagnosis.

I still trying to let go of anger. But I am learning that it is not my body I should be mad at…that’s how I used to feel. My anger is less concrete. It has no target. It only has questions…why now? What was the environmental trigger? What am I suppose to learn?  Should I be angry at Monsanto? Why do I have to be the canary, offering warning that modifying genetics can cause serious outcomes that we will not understand for decades?

Things I am working on include forming a healing team and I am still putting the members together. Hey I might even design a tee-shirt. GO TEAM! Learning to rest when my body needs it, I still struggle against this. Replenishing  spirit. Reconnecting to my core strength. Coping with financial fears as I open the mailbox and deal with the crumbling mechanical items in my life. Wondering what my new normal will look like and how I will afford my new life.