Not Quite Me

Every couple of years I imagine blond hair will change my perspective on life; that in an instant I will be more fun, more lively, more spontaneous. And the strange thing is, immediately following the drastic change, I do feel extra special. The reaction of friends, the perfect glance in the mirror, the glossy finish on the newly minted do trick me into believing the colour of my hair matters somewhere, to someone.

But it doesn't matter, and it's not me.

So eventually I always return to myself and stop hiding behind the borrowed blond shroud. And it always feels like a homecoming, which let's be honest, is one of the best feelings we ever have.

The Hotness

On Monday I attended my first hot yoga class in 9 years. A couple days later and I am still trying to determine if the class was a mistake or not.

Emotional, tiring, HAWT! I spent half the class shaking in child's pose, excreting negative energy. And while I know that's likely what I needed in that moment (and also happens to be a very normal reaction to a yoga class in an emotional state of mind) I sorta feel like a university student recovering from the most ridiculous kegger, still off, wary of that beer, thinking maybe it's best to take a break, knowing you still want a another beer though, and soon.

It's Thursday and I am still trying to dissect what happened; trying to wrap my head around not being able to settle, feeling physically broken and overwhelmed.

It may sound silly, but I feel like I am recovering from an invisible wound with no instructions on what to do next. And I can't even begin to describe how frustrating this has been...

I know there's something physically; medically off with my body. Today, my body is screaming, louder than it ever has. I slept poorly, my hacking cough still lives here, EVERY joint aches, my feet are so sore I feel like I am waddling (wow, that's a sad picture). I have attempted to advocate for myself. I have challenged my doctor. I have de-rostered from my doctor. And am now left searching for some clarity on how to best move forward, trying to get medical attention somehow. Fingers crossed the doctor I am chasing calls me soon.

As for the yoga class, I've decided it was a good class. It's forced me to reflect seriously on the very real help I need.