I got sick, physically sick. Not because of a virus or something, I made myself sick. I am lactose – intolerant, have been, forever. But a couple of years ago they invented a pill, a lactose – tolerant pill. The pill contains lactase, the stuff my body is missing to deal with the lactose. If I take this pill whenever I eat something containing lactose I will be fine. But yesterday I forgot the pill when I had cheese and chocolate. And off course, an hour later, I was in my boyfriends bed, with a lot of pain and a belly that looked like I was 14 months pregnant.
I did learn the past week that I have to be nicer to myself, more accepting, more loving, and if this was the test I definitely failed. The moment that the pain started I started hating myself, I started to get angry, angry that I had been so stupid to not take this pill, angry that I even ate cheese and chocolate, angry that I was the reason of this terrible pain. I have been lactose-intolerant for so long now, I should have known better, I shouldn’t have let this happen. I apologized to my boyfriend, told him how stupid I was, how sorry I was that I ruined our night together. But off course he did not agree, he even told me that this is supposed to happen, at least once every couple of months, that this is human, and it’s normal to once in a while forget things.
This made me realize I was doing it again, I was giving myself the harsh treatment. Instead of giving in to the pain and feel sick, I was punishing myself for it. I was even about to walk home for 30 minutes, just because I did not want to ruin his night with my pain, with my stupidity. He offered to take me home, put me to bed and take care of me. Deep down I knew that this is what I wanted, I wanted to be at home, with him and give in to the pain, lay down, relax and fall asleep in his comforting arms. But admitting this was hard, it was hard to ask him to do this for me, even though he offered. It took me about 20 minutes before I could say yes, before I allow him to take care of me, before I allowed myself to ask for help and admit that I was in pain.
He took me on his motorcycle to my house, he put my pajamas, he took care of my rabbit, he closed the curtains and he held me. I gave in, although I was still struggling a little, I allowed him to take care of me, to help me and most importantly, I allowed myself to be sick, to lay down, to relax. This made it much easier to deal with the pain, some help and some love from myself, some acceptance. I started think about the few times this happened before and I would just continue whatever it was I was doing, going to the gym, meetings at the office, dinner with friends. I would just continue, like nothing was wrong, tell myself I did this myself so I had to deal with the consequences as well, by myself. Now I wish I would have just listened, because sometimes it is really ok to not be ok, sometimes it’s ok to feel sick, even if I could have prevented it from happening. Blame does not make things better, it only makes things harder.