Ick. Gross. This morning I woke up full of snot. Boo. Hiss. I guess the sinus infection I’ve been battling for the last week has come charging back. (I really thought I had it licked.) Down with this sort of thing. I don’t have any energy. Shit.

If it’s not obvious, I’m frustrated. I hate sinus infections (I’ve had a lot of them). But more than being frustrated, I’m fearful. That is, since I had a sinus infection that lasted for three months last year, I’m afraid this one will turn into something like that, something that will go on and on and never go away no matter what I try (I’ve tried a million things). Granted, the probiotic I’ve been using off-and-on this week has helped more than anything else (both historically and lately), so maybe I just need to be more consistent, stick with it for several days (the site that told me about it says to stop when you feel better). Only time will tell.

Because of my body’s current condition, I tried to take it easy today. I took a nap, read a book. It’s eight in the evening now, and I’m blogging so that I can pass out whenever my body’s ready. Normally I’d force myself to stay awake and write or go to the gym, which I still can’t decide if I feel like doing today or not. Every so often I get a slight surge in energy and think, Sure, I could run a mile. (Just one mile.) Then my energy dips and I think, Screw that, I’m not leaving this couch.

Let’s get right to the deep stuff. Normally when I don’t feel well, part of me goes into attack mode. That is, I treat my illness like an enemy. My muscles tense up. I spend hours on the internet trying to figure out how to heal. And whereas I have found some helpful hints over the years, this is exhausting. As if being sick weren’t bad enough, and then I push-push-push. So today I’ve tried a different approach–acceptance. Not that I’m not taking my probiotic and all-the-vitamins–I am–but several times today I’ve made a point to lie still, breathe deeply, and BE SICK, to feel worn out, tired, deflated, frustrated, vulnerable, and afraid. And although nothing miraculous has happened, it has been healing (on the inside) to recognize the fact that there are a lot of emotions here, to not–for once–ask myself to feel any differently than I do.

The other deep thing today is that I’ve realized my body is trying. My body is doing the best it can. I’m sure I’ve said this before and didn’t really mean it. Or maybe I just didn’t mean it as much as I do now. The point is, I was thinking about how I’ve woken up a number of days this week full of the crud, but have woken up just as many days this week refreshed and feeling quite fine, dramatically better than I was the night before. This tells me something is going on. I picture it as a war–the good bacteria versus the bad bacteria–with each side winning its occasional battle. (Obviously I’m pulling for the good guys.) Regardless, that’s what I get from this one-day-better/one-day-worse pattern. My body clearly hasn’t given up. It’s trying.

For me, these two things–acceptance of what is and the acknowledgment that my body is trying–are enough to keep me from throwing in the proverbial towel. In other words, I still have hope. Yes, I feel deflated, but not defeated.