Level-Up: Part 6
Every Sunday I record my health achievements and discoveries for the week here. To find out why I decided to start doing this, you can read an explanation in the first post of the series here.
A slightly different format this week, because I just want to chat through this one.
I went on two of my usual walks to the local shops and they felt pretty manageable this week. Still wobbly, slow and hard work, but not the exhausting trudges they’d been recently. I have been trying harder to manage my energy levels, to rest when I need to and to accept when I’m just too dizzy, nauseated or unsteady on my feet to walk alone. The result has been getting a little more out of the time I do spend walking. My plan is to try and continue with this, but the balance between too much and just enough shifts every day, so it’s a day-by-day challenge
My big achievement this week was an emotional one. This was a massive wrestling week in the UK. My beloved WWE were on tour and they put on several shows, including the live televised extravaganza in Manchester on Monday and an evening with William Regal straight after it. Excuse me while I swoon. PCW, who’ve been mentioned several times on this journey (especially in the end of counselling podcast) had two days of what sounds like it was an incredible weekend of action and fun. They also had an overseas guest there I would love to meet. There are three big shows going on today, too.
I haven’t been able to go to a single one of them. Not even the prospect. Yes, it does break my heart. And yes, I could let all this hard work go to waste and just give in to that sadness. If anything, I want to be at these shows more than ever because I’ve had more practice at managing my dizziness in public. Sitting back and watching everyone talk about moments I won’t understand because I wasn’t there does set off a little twitch of self-pity. But something has shifted.
Mid-week while almost everyone I know went to something wonderful and WWE related, I was about 80% alright with it. I could let the sad part sit there without it taking over. Come Friday when all the PCW stuff kicked off, I was still calm. No breakdowns. No anger. Just a pining that could hover around without completely knocking me out. Wishing I was there, of course, but not begrudging anyone who was. For the most part, it’s still the same today. Quietly hoping someone will invent a teleportation machine within the next couple of hours, but knowing it’s alright that they won’t. (Hit me up if you’re working on this and need a guinea pig.)
A few months ago these weekends were something I dreaded and had to endure; something so painful I wore myself out with the anger and frustration that boiled up every time some event took place that my illness prevented me from attending. Not just during it, but leading up to it and for days afterward. And not just for me, but for people who deserved to enjoy themselves even though I couldn’t. I’m not saying it’s easy. In many ways it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to learn how to cope with. But to genuinely feel controlled over something that regularly sent me into a tailspin is worth the heartbreaking couple of months where I had to finally face what has happened to me, accept it and live with it. Because to have stopped hurting myself and the people I love with something that’s in my power to take charge of is the greatest gift I can give, both to myself and to them.