On a good day my base pain level is a 3; I open my eyes and prepare to move this body that feels 80. On a bad day just rising is so painful I stifle a cry just to sit up. Or it could be anywhere in between.
30 years of my life I did not know what the day would bring. Would I need to speed thru life getting as much done as inhumanely possible? Do I need to show myself grace and allow my body its moment? Do I walk thru mud today? Every. Single. Day. for 30 years. And every single night dreading sleep, heart racing, anxiety flooding my mind and body with the unknowns the morning would bring.