This entire week I’ve been fighting a sinus infection. And whereas things could be worse, I’ve been losing. Last night I went to bed hacking and coughing, and this morning I woke up hacking and coughing. Thankfully, things calmed down once my feet hit the floor and I became vertical. I guess the junk started draining. Draining, that’s what physical activity has been for me this week. Not impossible, but tiring. This morning I helped a friend load a bunch of trash (old furniture and such) onto a trailer to take to the dump. By the time we were finished, I was out of breath.

And starving. Let’s not forget starving, since three weeks ago I stopped eating before noon.

Does anyone feel sorry for me yet? If so, that’s honestly not my intent. I wish I could talk about something besides this plague–the black lung. (You could, Marcus.) I wish I could show up here and write about ten ways I have it all figured out and why I’m happy and healthy (and horny) all day every day. (You could, Marcus.) Well, yes, I could do that. But that wouldn’t be honest. I don’t feel great inside and out every day. For as hard as I work to be inside-and-out healthy, I still have plenty of things than can instantaneously bring me to my knees or, quite frankly, knock me on my ass.

I said a few days go that being sick carries less of a charge for me than it used to. What I meant is that for the longest time my sinus infections left me feeling hopeless. No matter how many doctors I saw and how many traditional treatments and home remedies I tried, the infections simply wouldn’t go away for very long. Then last year I discovered a probiotic (L. sakei) that turned out to be an absolute lifesaver. I had a sinus infection that lasted over three months, and once I got my hands on a product (kimchi) that contained the bacteria (and swabbed the inside of my nostrils with it), the infection went away in two days. “The universe knew you needed a break,” my therapist said.

“Twenty years,” I said, “is that how long it takes for the universe to figure these things out?”

Both when I had my sinus surgery two and a half years ago and when I learned about L. sakei a year and a half ago, I hoped that that would be it. Like, no more sinus infections ever. Alas, this has not been the case. Clearly, I still get them. And blog about them. That being said, they don’t last as long as they used to. They’re not as severe. And whereas I sometimes have to futz around with half a dozen products to find one with the correct, living bacteria, for me it’s still better (and cheaper) than going the traditional route of expensive doctor visits, antibiotics, and steroids.

But back to feeling hopeless. Admittedly, there have been times this week that I’ve been uber frustrated. Like, This bullshit again? But one of the benefits of so much therapy and honestly blogging about both my challenges and triumphs is that I’ve learned how to talk to myself. What I mean is that I’ve learned through daily practice how to not let myself get swept down the rabbit hole of worry and fear. Since I started this blog and especially since I went through about a year of being off-and-on sick, I’ve had a number of people refer to my writing as “bitching.” That’s fine. My point here isn’t to always be upbeat. My point is to be honest, and sometimes I’m honestly in a bitchy mood, especially when my body feels like a warm pile of shit.

All this being said, in addition to writing every one of my blogs, I’ve also read every one of my blogs at least three times, and although I could be wrong in my assessment, I think I make it a pretty distinct point here to 1) be real, 2) search for hope, and 3) find something good in even my worst days. The way I see it, saying, “This sucks, feel sorry for me,” that’s bitching. But saying, “This sucks, let’s hang in there and use this as a way to grow and become a better person,” that’s what I call mitching. That stands for mature bitching.

I just made that up.

My therapist says she’s a huge fan of bitching. “I love whining, whinging, and grousing,” she says. Not just because that’s the profession she’s in, but because it’s fun to vent, to feel sorry for ourselves. Can it wear your friends the fuck out? You’re damn right it can, which is why I suggest doing most of your emotional vomiting to someone who’s getting paid to listen to you. I also suggest that in addition to bitching you do some mitching. That is, start with the honest, ugly truth. Let your inner child throw a fit. This sucks. I hate it. Life’s not fair. I don’t know what to do. Then let your inner adult have the floor; talk yourself into a better place. All is not lost. There’s always help available. Things can change. I can change.

This is what I mean when I say I’ve learned how to talk to myself. For 919 days in a row (including today), I’ve sat down and been brutally honest about what I’m thinking and feeling. At the same time, I’ve been brutally honest about how I’d LIKE to think and feel (in a word, better). After over two years of doing this, it’s not that my bad days and challenges have disappeared. Certainly not. But what has happened is that now I don’t despair so quickly, if at all. When I do, I can get myself from a bad mood to a good mood in fairly short order.

This afternoon a probiotic I ordered earlier this week to help my sinuses arrived. And whereas I’ve only used it once, I think (I hope, I pray) it’s helping. I’ll know more tomorrow, but I’m not hacking and coughing as much as I was last night at this time. I have more energy. My point is that if you want anything in your life to improve–including your physical, mental, and emotional health–you’re gonna have to work at it again and again and again. Will you need hope and grace along the way? You bet your bottom dollar you will. None of us make it alone. At the same time, no one does our work for us. If you want your life to change, you have to change your life. This takes focused will and intent, determination and discipline, practice and patience.

It sucks, I know, but I promise you’ll like the results.