Is there a 5th gate for sanity?

Last week I started acupuncture as part of my recovery. A couple of aggressive treatments later, I woke up on Friday with my right hand and foot feeling prickly. Bugger. Having had a few days of pretty normal sensation it was disappointing to be back at square one (or wherever it was). With all the emotions that got stirred up on Thursday, maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised – but I was.

After laying in bed feeling kind of panicky, I decided to try and walk to the beach for some earthing. (I started earthing last fall and am not an expert, so feel free to look it up here if you’re interested in learning more.) I’m not sure what I was thinking seeing as my trip through the aisles of Target left me in bed for a few days afterward, but I just wanted to try something to get the circulation moving again on my right side. Why I didn’t go back for more acupuncture, who only knows.

Well, I made it to the beach all right. I was winded and wanted to lay down in the sand after those two blocks, but I made it. I stood in the water for about 15 minutes and we even stopped for breakfast on the way back – probably because Chris noticed there was no way in hell I was going to be able to make it home at that moment.  By the time we did make it back, however, I could barely get up the stairs. I caught myself having to really haul myself up by the railing at the halfway point, and once up top actually sat down in a sweaty heap. It scared the hell out of me. Who can’t walk up the stairs after walking two simple blocks?

Me, that’s who.

I sat outside with Benjamin Franklin for about half an hour, just catching my breath. It was exhilarating to have walked those blocks! Despite being tired I had a pretty good adrenaline rush going and couldn’t wait to get inside to write something positive here, especially after the sad stuff I wrote on Thursday.

Unfortunately that was the end of that idea. By the time I went in the house, the couch was all I could handle. Cut to scene and there I was in the streets at 10pm trying to coerce B. Franklin inside. Everything before and after that is pretty much a blur. To say I pushed myself too hard is an understatement, even though I barely freaking did ANYTHING but walk to and from the beach.

What in the actual hell.

I vaguely recall calling Chris to say I was going down like a box of rocks. Next thing I knew I woke up at 11 on Saturday morning with Franklin laying next to me on the pillow. Bless his little heart because up until now he’s mostly enjoyed making me dig him out from under parked cars in front of the house, in my pajamas in the dark, as people walk by with their dogs and question my sanity. Ever try to heave yourself up off the ground with a bum arm and leg? Not advisable, especially not with a live audience.

Anyway, I’ve been in bed ever since and don’t think I’ll be trying that again any time soon. Except maybe tomorrow because I can’t seem to learn my lesson. Nope, just kidding.

Today I went back to acupuncture to get those four gates opened again, noticed a plant that looked like a dong in her otherwise amazing front yard and laughed my head off like a 12 year old boy.  That’ll be the extent of my exertion for today, thanks. Until 9pm when Frank decides he needs to find another rat for his growing stash. God, give me strength.

See, I wasn’t kidding: