Chiari be Damned

Yesterday was the end of September and the end of Chiari awareness month. If you know me, you know what that is, if you don’t, I encourage you to take a look at the “My Chiari Story” page for more information. Chiari is a condition that is not that rare, but it’s rarely diagnosed. There is no cure, only some treatments to help with the symptoms. There are several sister conditions that come with it, and yes, you can die from it. I will always be subjected to Chiari’s whims, but there has been some good that has come from it too. I have met some amazing people than I cherish and proudly call my friends. I know my strength, and know that am able to pull myself together without most people even noticing that I’m hurting. I also know the value of life and good days how how both should be treated with joy and respect. This year for Chiari awareness month, I took a different approach. I focused on me. On my health. I dropped the excuses and embraced the fact that I can still take care of me. I started working out. If you follow me, then you’ve been following my journey thus far, and if not, welcome. I turn 40 one month from today. 40. I’m having a harder time with this one because in my head I’m only 26 and and 2003 was only a couple years ago, not more than a decade ago. By 40, I was supposed to be fit, successful, beautiful, and married to a rock star, traveling the world. I never dreamed that my success would be shown in my children, or that my rock star would be a computer guy who works his tail off to provide for his family. I think I won the lottery in both of those scenarios. That still leaves fit and beautiful. I know I know, beauty is on the inside and I shouldn’t need external validation, BUT I DO! I used to turn heads. I was the hot girl people noticed, and now I’m working my way back. I’m in the gym every day, whether I want to or not. And some days my head is killing me, but I go. I’m working with Stephanie on a meal plan to get the weight off because fitness starts at the gym, but weight loss comes from the kitchen. I owe it to my children to be the healthy mom they deserve. I owe it to my rock star to take an effort in my appearance, and I owe it to myself to work hard and get fit again.

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