record of an unreasonable body
Most days aren’t nearly this bad, but occasionally, they are, and that’s a vent about it.
My alarm rings at 5am. It should have been enough hours, but my body feels beaten. I get up. I wanna go to the office today. I can tell my body doesn’t.
I get ready and leave home. I get a slight headache. On the tram, I start to feel nauseous and dizzy. My body is really trying to make it clear that it would have preferred that I stayed home, but this is my only office day that week and it’s really not too much to ask to show up once. I’m looking forward to getting out, seeing something different, getting a drink as a little reward, talking to coworkers in person, going to my favorite asian grocery store. I wish my body was also excited or at least compliant.
In the office, I notice I’m equal parts tired and anxious, which makes no sense. I would love to lie down and nap, but my heart is also pounding in my chest and I feel like I’m hiding from lion. But I’m just in my office, on my desk, alone, and nothing bad has happened so far. An uneventful and relaxed morning. It’s like I personally think everything’s fine, but what my body feels is something different. I think my PTSD diagnosis doesn’t affect me much anymore, but then these moments humble me. Time to do breathing exercises.
On days like these, there’s just a huge gap between me and my body - we are technically the same, but it also feels different. I think something is reasonable, my body disagrees. I think doing this or that should be pretty easy, but my body is exhausted. I look at what others manage, my body manages half of it. I think of all the people who do genuine strenuous work, exhausting and long and demanding, and wonder why my body acts like it experiences that. I have a fairly comfortable and easy life in comparison and I find it embarrassing that I am so weak at times.
There’s an urge in me to make clear to my environment that I am not my body’s limits, and that I totally agree it’s princess-and-the-pea levels of complaints over here. It feels like we’re two people handcuffed together, and it’s holding me back because it refuses to acknowledge reality. I try to be nice about it, but if I am being honest, my body is a little lazy and overdramatic. Yes, of course, I know the platitudes by communities around disability and chronic illness: Your body does so much, honor its limits, it’s not your fault for being sick and disabled… and I agree! But on these days, I am frustrated. I feel like I have been born into a body that’s too small for the big ambitions I have. I bang on its walls from the inside. I wanna drive this car like I stole it.
I think something is interesting, but I have brain fog and can’t focus. I want to do something I enjoy and looked forward to, but it doesn’t let me get up and everything hurts. I want to socialize and play games with others, but my body doesn’t have enough energy. I wanna walk, but I have to sit down. I go to the gym every day for a week, and then I’m in bed a lot the next. There can’t be consistency in a body that sets very firm terms that are non-negotiable.
I’m in a phase again (usually lasting 5-10 days) where anything else but very specific foods make me nauseous; the smell, the sight, the thought of eating it. It’s back to safe foods, mostly liquids. Liquid meal replacement, teas, smoothies, shitaraki, soy yoghurt, silk tofu. Sometimes I am hungry but nothing feels safe to eat. If I don’t have anything suitable at home I just have to wait it out until my body is so hungry it settles for the bad food. I sometimes have to force it and then it works. Why does it feel like I am feeding a picky toddler? There are people starving all over the world, and this clown can’t bear eating bread. To be clear, this is an autistic thing, not my Crohn’s disease; that one is pretty quiet thanks to treatment.
Is it instead a problem with my standards? Am I not gracious enough? Should I get better at accepting that the older I get, the less forgiving my body will be about lacking sleep, stress, skipped meals etc.? Occasionally, I get told by people that I should actually be so proud and they couldn’t manage half of it - the illnesses, the fulltime job, parttime studies, the certification process, gym, household, relationship, friends, hobbies, blog. It just still doesn’t feel enough for me. But I guess we’re always under the impression that we could be doing more, right? I always think I could have written more, studied harder, read more, exercised more, used my time more wisely. I’m not immune to sometimes thinking that rest is a waste of time, even when it isn’t.
Today, I’m in a boxing match with my body. I have a meeting from 9am to noon now. Good luck to my body. 🫡
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Published 12 Jun, 2025