Finding joy in small victories 

It’s sort of my ethos of late. I try to keep a  certain amount of perspective when life tries to get the better of me. I have love and food and shelter.  There are many things that I could choose to gripe about,  but all of that in itself is huge. Physical and mental health issues are less daunting knowing that you don’t have to do it by yourself.  

I suppose the title of this post may be a bit misleading as the aforementioned things are rather large victories but perhaps this brings us back to the whole perspective thing and how truly crucial it is. The mind (particularly in the bipolar ) has a tendency to lose sight of the bigger picture while magnifying the bullshit.  

I AM struggling right now. I still have to deal with some complex emotional issues day to day as well as occasionally vicious pain in my joints.  I’m at a new job now but it’s going to take a while to get my money back up to par and naturally I’m stressed out. However, this week has been pretty good pain-wise. I flared up a bit after the first Humira injection for about the first day. That said,  I’ve been relatively pain-free since. Could be the Humira,  could be the Arava.  I’m not sure but I’ll take it. 

I’m hoping the insurance approval process goes smoothly and I don’t get mired in some step therapy nonsense.  Allow me to clarify,  it’s when insurance companies won’t let you try Z med until you try and fail W,X and Y first.  Part of it , well most of it is to save the insurer money. I’m hoping to have an answer to my PA request this week.  If Humira is denied I may have to try something more old-school first,  we shall see I guess.  

I used to measure success in how well I was doing financially or what I had “accomplished ” or whatever.  These days I settle for the little things.  I haven’t given up on myself,  just tried to change my attitude about things. 

I have chronic health issues and there will be bad days, to be sure. I’ve just learned to laugh more and treasure the good days. I’m trying to take myself less seriously and give myself a little credit for making it this far. 

Lately I haven’t been waking up with my hands being too stiff to hold my coffee pot. If that does not qualify I’m not sure what does. I’m not losing my grip on reality or going through soul-crushing depression.  Today I got upset and even teary eyed thinking about how futile everything tends to feel. But my Man and I had a deep talk and I felt a lot better for it. I don’t hate myself for not being good enough today. For the moment,  I’m holding.  

When all else fails,  I think of where I’ve been.  I will not go back. 

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