Make a fist and release

In the morning, I wake to find more pain. Today my hands join in the chorus of chaos in my gut. I remember the frustration, the denial, the hatred, all from the day before. The stress of being out of work, the fury of being helpless.

But today I try something new. I take a deep breath and clench my fists close. They are weak, and my fingers creak from the effort. I press all my fears and anger over being ill into my hands. And then I exhale and release them.

There is no cure for what I have. It is scary to think that my life is changing because of something I cannot control. It is frightening to think I will not be able to function like everyone else.

But I let it go. I breathe out. I repeat my mantra:

My body is not perfect, but it is mine. I will love it where it’s at.