rough day in recovery

Rough day.  Not helped by sleep deprivation, but not caused by it either.  My day........
Started with a phone call from a dear friend who is hurting deeply as she supports her friend through a pregnancy caused by rape.  My friend was nearly raped a few years back.  She is having flashbacks and nightmares and waking up screaming.  I get it.  There is a weird trigger in those of us who have been assaulted that when someone we know is dealing with their trauma, our own trauma is triggered 1000 times over again.  I am here to love my friend as she loves her friend.  Together we will all get through this.  I'm probably the farthest along in handling my own grief process and trauma.

I was an hour late for my meeting this morning because of the phone call from my friend.  During prayer requests at the end of the meeting, I mention how crappy I've been feeling and that I have a doctors appointment and blood work to determine if my fatigue is the new meds or my thyroid again, or iron or any other number of things that could cause my symptoms.  The only problem?  It was 11:20 and I suddenly remember that my appointment is at 11:30!  I raced to pick up my kids and get them loaded in the car.  Driving, I called the doctor's to tell them I was running behind and they informed me that my appointment is at 12:30 NOT 11:30!  I breathed a sigh of relief and proceeded with no luck to try to find someone to watch my kids.

I had to bring the kids with me to the doctors.  NOT a good idea!  My younger two kids had the behavior of hellions at the doctors.  I'm also up a bit more weight, NOT my favorite part of the day!  I knew I had to be gaining, I've actually eaten over the last 2 weeks, but seeing it in front of me was difficult.  My hubby met me on my errands list to give me my debit card.  He let me vent.  Then I looked at him and said, "Plus, I'm back to _____lbs.  It may be a good thing, but it makes me feel crazy."  He held me close while a few tears slid down my face. 

Oh, and Dr. R decided to add another med into my medicine cocktail.  It should be helpful but it was just one more thing to do today when I really wanted to not do anything. I want to curl into a ball and cry.  I want to sleep forever.  I am so emotionally exhausted. 

Can I be honest and say the new numbers on the scale are terrifying to me?  Why?  I tell everyone that age and weight are just numbers, not who you are.  Why can I not believe for me what I do indeed believe for those around me?  Why is someone else's number just a number and yet my own number is vitally important to me?  Why does the thought of dinner make me feel like vomiting right now? 

Like I said, rough day.  But rough day and all, I still know that God is still God and He is still good.