Pimp my cane

A little while ago, a friend and I were discussing the vagaries of weight loss, body image and the like. I was commenting that I had bought a load of cheap clothes, because until I've hit the magical goal weight, I don't "deserve" more expensive clothes.

She replied, saying that in her experience she has found it more productive to treat herself to good clothes, because even though she's aiming to lose weight, she is still allowed to look and feel great. She said it keyed into the way she looked at weight loss too. Rather than being draconian and forcing herself into giving up all nice things because she was fat fat fat, she began to look at herself as a body that needed care and attention and deserved to be cared for and attended do. And then she acknowledged that I may have a slightly more complicated relationship with my body, because of the MS.

You know how occasionally someone says something in passing that actually makes you gasp at the truth of it? This was one of those moments. I had never allowed that thought to bubble to the surface, because it almost feels like an admission of defeat. And that's the hardest part about all this really - not admitting defeat. Because yes, I have a complicated relationship with my body. It's out to get me. That's not paranoia - that's truth. I always knew something was out to get me as well, I've always had a lurking suspicion. My body is out to get me. My immune system thinks I'm one massive germ, and is determined to eradicate me. My immune system is the Borg, and resistance is futile.

But it's also not my body's fault. I am Liz's slowly ticking, waiting to implode, time bomb of a neural pathway. But it's not my body's fault. It's fucked up, big time. But it's not my body's fault. And it's not my fault either.

So what can I do? I could feel sorry for myself. I could be ruthlessly practical. I could make crass jokes about impending disability payments. Or I could do all of the above. I started by buying a cane. It isn't an admission of defeat. I've had to use it once, but mostly it's just knowing it's in my bag that makes me feel better.

I'm not actually at war with my body, and the sooner I accept it the sooner I can make myself healthier and, hopefully, keep bouncing back.