When We Must Cope With Our Pain
Last night, Shaunta Grimes asked me when I was getting back on keto.
“Tomorrow,” I chirped. “I just cleaned out my fridge.”
Fast forward to this morning and I’ve already eaten rice with queso. And grapes. Okay, so I’m not back on keto today after all.
What happened?
Honestly, I have zero resolve about food anytime I’m coping with pain.
For the past week, I’ve been dealing with extremely heavy bleeding and a period that doesn’t seem to want to stop. It leaves me tired, cranky, and feeling like coping is all I can do to get by.
Everybody knows what short-term coping feels like. Not fun, but not too terrible either. As time drags on, however, the act of coping itself feels like an enormous feat.
I can’t help but wonder why we don’t talk more about the realities of coping. I hear people talk about coping with addiction, or coping with illness. But what about coping with… coping?
We often talk about coping as a treatment strategy when it more often acts as a symptom of disease. Or a consequence of pain.
We cope when thriving feels too far out of reach.
We turn to food, substances, or unhealthy habits as a means to survive.
Coping isn’t inherently terrible, but it’s less than what we need.
It’s simply getting by.
It’s no secret that making healthy choices is particularly hard during times of pain. We naturally seek comfort and reprieve anytime we try to simply cope with our problems.
I have a notoriously hard time sticking to an eating plan when I get a migraine or heavy period. So I am having a pretty damn hard time caring enough to get back on my eating plan. I just want to wait until the bleeding is over.
And you know what? That’s what I’m going to do.
It’s a coping mechanism–simply getting through.
When we talk about obesity, I wonder why we don’t also talk about the pain and the coping that so often contributes to weight gain. Or inhibits weight loss. Or why we don’t better acknowledge when coping is all we can do.
Today, I am too exhausted to do much of anything. Too exhausted to write well. Too exhausted to be productive. Too tired to do much more than keep me and my daughter alive.
I’m even too tired to think about fat grams or protein or tracking my food.
Some people might say that’s a copout, but I also don’t think I’m the only one battling the realities of simply coping.
Sometimes, the world just takes a toll. And it’s far too much.
You’re allowed to feel all of it.
This morning, my daughter woke me up too early. I felt grumpy and irritated but most of all, I felt weary. That’s when I knew the heavy bleeding hadn’t stopped.
Like most days, I woke up today with the desire to get a good deal of writing done first thing. But unlike most days, I felt mentally fatigued and uninspired.
Not only that.
I was frustrated with the way everything felt like it took too much from me when I hadn’t even gotten out of the bed.
Oh, who am I kidding?
I’m still in bed.
Listening to the heavy rain.
Listening to Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood playing on my daughter’s tablet.
Listening to my daughter sniffle and refuse to use a freaking tissue.
I’m pretty sure my blood pressure keeps rising over the most ridiculous things.
I want to write.
Scratch that.
I want to write something good.
Something that resonates deeply with other people. Something that means a lot to me, and something I’m proud to call my own.
But guess what?
Right now, I’m not feeling it.
I am uninspired.
And I hate to write when I’m feeling uninspired.
I hate to write when I’m feeling too tired. Or too something.
Too emotional.
Everybody’s got their thing that makes life hard. You know, that thing or 2 or 5.
Most days, my thing is the single mom thing. The how-the-hell-am-I-gonna-get-all-this-shit-done thing.
Clearly, I get some shit done because I’m still here. Still writing.
But it’s not always good.
And today, I can’t help but look at my life and admit it’s a “not good” kind of day. It’s a cope with my pain kind of day, and one thing that helps is simply knowing I’m not really alone in any of this.
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When We Must Cope With Our Pain
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