Blog from the bike

Yeah. I am blogging from the exercise bike at the gym. Woke up after much more sleep than I'm used to, but my body begged me. It was pathetic, really, so I just said "ok" and went with it. 

I've been feeling this teeter totter of detoxing. Feeling amazing, then toxic, then amazing. The good thing is that the toxicity I'm experiencing is not like before. It feels like a purge. It doesn't feel like taking poison on top of poison. Graphically speaking, it feels like food posioning might when you're expelling the offender. 

So, hubs was ready to go to the gym and I hadn't been here in 6 days - so I grabbed my new copy of THE GOOD FIGHT by Greg Holmes and Katherine Roth. 

Why am I typing instead of reading? I need a break. Every other page makes me cry. Not what I need in public. Yeah, it's human, but I don't want sweaty strangers with their leftover brunch sweat and horrific pheromones hovering. So, I put it down until I am composed again. A highly recommended read, and I'm not too far in. It's a doc and a psychiatrist couple so it's not written by some quack guru who lives in a refrigerator box and prescribes eating the antennae of roaches. They are real people and professionals. With a child. And cancer. And are unwilling to die by conventional cure. 

Anyway, my metabolism is being a bitch, but I also almost have an actual period right now. We're referring to it as a "code orange". I don't actually need a pad, liner is doing just fine, but it's encouraging and a bit of relief in a bizarre way. Cramping. And no, I am not taking an Advil. I'm breathing and taking turmeric and krill and hoping for the best. I've done enough damage to my temple. The shit needs a cleaning crew, not just a sweep under the already filthy rug. Ah. Breathing through pain. 

Ok. I have recovered emotionally from the last 2 pages that made me whimper and wipe tears away in a place when I'm usually super badass. Back to work!