Oh man, Katie, your post about the necklace was so beautiful. Ayayayay! Thanks.

I’m not gonna lie: I felt like shit today.  Some days I have some perspective on the migraines and the fatigue and the aches and the chemical sensitivity. And other days, I am paralyzed by fear and worry and anger and I can’t see beyond that.

When I woke up this morning, I had big plans to buy James’ parents some Christmas gifts, to write a card to my neighbor, to buy something sweet for a friend. But by the time noon rolled around, my head was pounding and it was all I could do not to get in bed and cry for the rest of the day.

I really thought I might do that and then, at a certain point, I found myself getting up, shoveling the snow off the car, and going out to do some errands. I didn’t buy anything for anyone—just some groceries and stuff at the drugstore. But I felt proud of myself — small as it may seem — that I did get up, that I did get out the door. Even if only for a bit.

It felt like giving in some way; generous to take care of myself, to say, ok, now I’m going to stand up straight and put one foot in front of the other and treat myself with some respect — and kindness.

When I got home, James was here. And as soon as I saw him, all I wanted to do was cry and whine and tell him how shitty I felt and have him make it better. Amazing how alive and well the 6-year old in me is… And, admittedly, I did do that. And once again, at a certain point, I realized that it wasn’t helpful. Not to me and not to James. So — and this was harrrrrd — I stood up, wiped the tears, and went into my bedroom. And it didn’t feel like suppression or sulking. It just felt like some realization that this is hard for him too, that he gives a lot, and that maybe I could give him a break.

And then, five minutes later, he knocked on the door and said, “can I come cuddle with you?” And that felt so generous and so kind. Such a revelation to see that when I give him space to be himself rather than telling him “I need this, or you don’t x,y,z” then there is actually room for him to offer in a way that is genuine and heartfelt. And he has so much to offer.

I have been wanting to get a gift for a friend for the past week. I wanted to pick out something special that she would really love, but that just wasn’t in the cards today. So, I went on the interwebs and I ordered something for her. And it feels lame to order a gift — impersonal, I guess. But it was what I could offer tonight and I hope that when she gets it, at the very least, it’ll make her smile and she’ll know that I was thinking of her.

Sometimes it seems the greatest and hardest thing we can give is ourselves a break.