AS Was A Wake Up Call

When I was in graduate school, my life was messy. I was working at a bookstore that undervalued and underpaid its employees, I was dealing with the toxicity of a bad relationship, and I was moving through extreme family trauma and grief. I was young. I had no idea how bad the PTSD was, and I was using grad school as a way of affirming my success and functionality as a human being. I was a whirlwind of stress and partying and not caring for myself.

No wonder I was having recurrent bouts of uveitis. My body was surging with stress, cortisol, grief, unattended-to PTSD, and I was either working, doing graduate school work, or partying to numb my feelings.

I was anchorless

I had a lot of fun, I won't deny that — but I was anchorless, sad, tired, lost, and volcanic; I was ready to explode. Uveitis was that explosion. My body was saying, "Lisa — get yourself ready; life is about to change."

And, oh, it did. I couldn't focus in class; my eyes were red and swollen and in pain. Inflammation was coursing through me, destroying me from the inside out. I started getting tired. I was not aware of the effects of alcohol, poor sleep, poor nutrition, and poor self-care on the body — and thus I continued the rampage. Until I could not.

I was a late bloomer; let's put it that way. It wasn't until I was 30 that I realized I needed to slow down, take my health seriously and listen to my body, which was begging for help.

Enter pain, fatigue, and brain fog

The uveitis had stopped, but life got real. Pain, fatigue, brain fog took over my body. At this point, I started eliminating bad influences from life in the form of vices and people. I started getting serious about work and my life trajectory. I started taking my energy and time seriously. I started sleeping when I needed it. I ate better and worked out. I drew boundaries.

It was a slow burn, but my life today is a complete and total 180 from where I was. I suppose a part of this is age and maturity, but I think AS was a wake-up call — to myself, my health, my mental health, my time, my energy, my vision for my life. I began choosing people, circumstances, and experiences that nourished me and protected me. I began making decisions that kept me healthy. I began thinking in terms of sustainable wellness; I stuck to my routines and my self-promises.

It hasn't been easy

It has not been easy. I've had to walk away from careers, I've lost friends, and I've gotten considerably more boring. But I'm also not actively chiseling away at my body and my mental health. Of course, I'm no paragon of health. I still have my vices, my nights out, and my party-child ways. But it's different now. It's tempered.

I prioritize my work, my body, my values, and my energy. I try to behave from a place of diplomatic self-management. I allow myself my downtime and my playtime. But it's always a choice, and it's always a balancing of the scales.

AS changed my life in myriad ways; one of those ways is clear: It made me more present and more responsible for my wellness. I am not invincible. I can't afford to be reckless. And I have to show up for myself — hard as it is mentally, financially, and socially.