My body doesn't hate me.
When first diagnosed with Sjogren's Syndrome, I became aware of the fact - I suppose every autoimmuner does at sometime - that the "fighter" cells in my body (meant to kill viruses and intruders) had turned upon my healthy tissue instead. It felt somewhat akin to employing a security guard, only to have him turn his gun on you and hold you hostage instead.
I felt betrayed. unnatural, abnormal.
Yet in my second Tai Chi class, as I muttered something about "my stupid ankle" my instructor stopped the class to remind us that we need to be thankful for all our bodies do for us each day. Thankful? I should be thankful?
Let's give it time, my friends. Time.
