The Adventures of Fat Ass and Chimpy, Part 6: Say Yes to the Mess

This isn’t the only heavy weight I’m carrying around lately

I’m going through some stuff, guys. Some heavy, heavy stuff. The kind that flips you onto your ass and knocks the wind out of you and when you look around, you don’t recognize anything anymore. It’s scary. Disorienting. Frustrating. Discouraging. Exhausting.

I’ve been intensely angry for over a week. I had a breakthrough in therapy (yes, I am a proud proponent of and participant in therapy), and I have been flipped out ever since. A couple of days ago, the anger started to ebb, and in its wake it left mental and physical exhaustion and malaise. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to talk to anybody.

But hey, guess what? I have a job and a blog and a husband and a Dr. Fat Ass and a Chimpy and two really cute cats. And I owe it to all of those things and mammals to keep going. More importantly, I owe it to myself to keep going.

So I have kept going. In my therapist’s words, I just have to “say yes to the mess” for now. Be with it. Let it pass.

I accompanied Sous Chef on a business trip to Boston, and the morning after we arrived, I woke up in the hotel room and could hardly move. The stress of my Heavy Stuff combined with the stress of travel added up to a tweaked out back. I immediately texted Dr. Fat Ass and Chimpy, which I’m sure Chimpy appreciated, because he doesn’t really do mornings.

Welcome to my group text (physical) therapy.

I got a response from Dr. Fat Ass pretty quickly. “A little disc flare up. You will recover. Only lean to the right” – the only way I could lean without pain – “Increase fluid intake. Try to get a walk in to create pump in area.”

Then I made a joke about my plan to walk around Harvard and hey, if I fell down at least super smart types and doctors would be around to help me up. Dr. Fat Ass, in true form, replied, “No. They’ll drug and cut you.”

Then I reminded Dr. Fat Ass that I’m a superhero now that I push sleds around and stuff, and I would fight them off before they had a chance to slice into me.

At that point, Chimpy chimed in, most likely roused by the annoying group text he’d been subjected to first thing in the morning. He advised me to do some more side to side rolls (those are super fun – I’ll see if I can find – or make! – a video for you).

I tried to get a little serious, saying that the mental game was going to be a big factor – telling myself that I’d be fine again eventually and convincing myself that was true, instead of getting all tied up in a ball of nerves about it.

Dr. Fat Ass: “Well, if that’s the case, all is lost. LOL.”

Then he sent me a gif of a muscle man flexing his biceps and I smiled.

It’s nice to have my boys there to “back” me up.

I’ll get there.

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