Early morn beauty

This early morning I let down my hair. No longer pulled back. Settled well into my lounge pants and tank top, covered in a old cardigan. Ready to close the night and find sleep.

Yet I know from the symptoms of my flare of the past this one is going to be short but still eventful. Water retention in feet, legs, hands and fingers.  Truly I thought of my paternal grandmother talking about her bad days (which was everyday) of having short stubby fingers. And through this I can actually relate.

Mighty salt, sugar and water cravings. No diabetes just in full awareness of a settling flare. All in which I can deal with if I have good sleep. And much to my love, I have a very light week of work. 

Much of me, right now, is in gratitude of this. 

And as I brush my teeth I stare at myself in the mirror. So pale but with bright raspberry lips. Truthfully in that moment I felt the most beautiful than I had been in years. 

A reminder of kind beauty of a girl lost and a woman found. A moment where courage overpowered any fear. And I smiled. Laughing at the tossed, red curls. Sighing as I calm my throat, my thyroid to a manner of utter silence.

Still to make the mind tackle any negativity I am experiencing alongside the pain, great feat.  In a small step I make myself soar. These are the moments I cling too.  

Knowing that sleep is coming I can only hope that the tightness and swelling fades. As does the anxious heart. 

And in this settling moment I lean into the morning with a boring book. Hoping that the brain relaxes with the giggles of freckles and the lines blend to dance.

Yes indeed all will be well. Sleep, I smile, has greeted me. Hmm. Good night fellows and ladies.