Perfectly "Sicklical"

I have been fighting a cold all week long and I am getting a little sick and tired of it. I have asked this miserable cold to leave my body at once; it has been ignoring my request. A 5,000lb cloud has landed on my head and taken up residence. It has caused me to pay too much attention to the physical and not enough on the emotional balance. I am familiar with this game my body plays with me, this passive aggressive attempt to detract me from dealing with the emotional issues at hand. None the less I find myself battling stomach problems, allergies or back aches whenever there is an issue I don't want to deal with. I believed that at least the knowledge of what my body and mind were doing would be enough, apparently not so much the case. I act like a brave soldier and try and dig deep down inside to find what it is exactly I am repressing. I think that at least if I allow my brain to fully process what is going on it will finally release my body.

Today I am still in a headlock, my brain is winning this match. My body has crumbled under the strong hand of my cerebral nemesis. My nose is running, my head is pounding and I have no doubt that my bowels will soon catch up with the rest of me. My choices are limited, go to bed and give in to my brain's control over me or sit up and talk it through. I can engage in a battle of words with my nemesis and finally quiet the thoughts that are causing this, or I can continue to ignore them and wait it out. The cold will pass, the bowels will work it through and life will go on, but the cycle will begin again another day.

As a wife, mother, daughter, sister and human being there are tremendous restrictions placed on us. We picture what it is to be the perfect person, we attempt to make ourselves fit into a mold that someone else has chosen for us. In many cases we give control of our destiny to some foreign body and then blame ourselves for failing to comply. We find ourselves in a battle to break the mold, yet we ourselves walk blindly into the battle. It has been a challenge to meet all of the expectations I have allowed others to put on me. I have failed miserably and found myself resentful for being put to the test to begin with. As it turns out I am my own worst enemy.

As I finish this article; a few days after I started; I have regained control of my symptoms. Have I won the battle of physical vs emotional, or have I merely quit to fight another day? I think the latter is more to the truth. This struggle will be mine for as long as I allow it to be and I'll be damned if I have mastered the art of this war. Today is a good day, there are no little hammers pounding at my head nor a vise gripped tightly around my neck. My nose has decided to stop running and my eyes have shrunk back down to their normal size. My skin tone has returned to it's normal shade of pasty pale and my stomach has stopped dancing the Argentinian Tango. Whether I will become a decorated soldier or remain a wounded mess has yet to be determined, but for now I will take this retreat as a small victory and live to fight another day.