Being on bed rest this past month was so much more challenging  than I thought it would be. I was prepared for the idea of it, but not the stark reality of it. The idea that I will be injured and need to take it easy and rest to allow my body time to heal, and rest is a good thing!  But not the reality of how little id actually be able to do and the toll that would take on me mentally. The first couple weeks were bad, really bad. Pain mends made me dreadfully sick and I was constantly struggling to manage the pain and the nausea, landing me in the ER. Being able to do nothing on my own or for myself. The next two weeks were worse.

As the pain gradually lessened the desire to be active, independent, PRODUCTIVE, increased. Along with the extreme guilt of asking so much from my family members. Like many other people, my self worth has long been 100% reliant on my productivity. My father instilled in me the belief that if I wasn’t actively contributing in a meaningful way I was essentially worthless — something he reminded me of daily. As an adult I “pride” myself in being busy, being driven, being a hustler, creating, providing, etc. Being bedridden stripped nearly all of that away from me. I of course tried to do little productive stuff from bed, but without the ability to do what I considered meaningful, I found myself losing motivation to do even the simplest activities. They no longer felt sufficient. As day after day past there became a point when I was confronted by the question: 

“What value do you have if you are incapable of being productive”?

And the honest answer is, I don’t know. The disappointment I feel not being able to answer this question is heavy.

Now of course I tried continuously to put thing into perspective, “at least it’s not forever”, “at least it’s just your foot”, “so many people have it worse”. I mean hell, look at Frida!! She didn’t let being bedridden stop her. She is an icon, a trailblazer, an inspiration. And she also openly struggled with the depression of it all.  And as rational as I try to be, always telling  people “while their worst day may look better than your best day, it is still their worst day” this has been a string of worst days for me.

I  wish I could say that this situation provided me with a new awareness of myself, but it didn’t. I have known this about myself for most of my life, but this is the first time I’ve been forced to look at it. To just sit. And look at it. Id also love it if I could end this blog post with this deeply insightful epiphany I had about self worth, but I didn’t have one. The truth is we can never see ourselves through others eyes and we will almost always be our own harshest critics — unless, of course, we are among the fortunate few who are blissfully unaware. 

All we can do is be patient and hold on to the knowledge that time changes everything and ‘This too shall pass”. Whether it’s a matter of circumstances changing or our ability to adapt to a new normal, nothing is permanent. Be patient with yourself, allow yourself grace, and KNOW that this too shall pass.

Id like to add that I suffer from PMDD among other things lol and if you have this condition then you know the havoc it can wreak when you are at 100% let alone when you are at 15%. If you aren’t familiar with PMDD, go look it up. It’s a horrible condition that, in this day and age women should not have to suffer and yet close to 10% of all women do.

I am happy to say I am now off bedrest but am still only able to function at about 30% of my normal, but 30 will soon be 40 will soon be 100.