Tag Archives: #body

“I don’t want my pain and struggle to make me a victim. I want my battle to make me someone else’s hero”

I’m on the one month Netflix trial and I’ve binge watched everything that caught my attention. One of the best things I saw was the documentary about Lady Gaga called “Five Foot Two”. I can’t call myself a fan of this singer, I only like some of her songs and I think she’s a charismatic performer. But I really loved this Netflix documentary and I want to thank Lady Gaga for shining spotlight on chronic pain, hoping that it will raise awareness about this problem. Invisible illness is not invisible to the sufferer and the only thing worse than pain is not being believed by family, friends or even doctors, who think it’s stress, or all in your head or that you’re faking it, looking for attention.

Lady Gaga reveals that she’s fighting pain that stems from a broken hip suffered on the 2013 tour. There’s a part of the documentary that shows her on the couch in tears, because her right side of the body is in a spasms and that her face hurts.

She reveals that when she feels the adrenaline from her fans, she can go, even if it doesn’t mean she’s not in pain. She shows the drugs she takes to control pain , the treatments she gets to ease it, the doctors she visits to find a permanent solution and it’s an incredible discovery for those who, like me, are used to see her full of energy, singing and dancing on a stage.

Honestly, chronic pain and invisible illness can be as limiting as any other disability and the fact that others can’t see them, doesn’t make them disappear. They’re fucking real!

So, if you have Netflix, I really recommend “Gaga: five foot two” even if you’re not a fan of Lady Gaga. It also shows many aspects of celebrities’ life, because, sometimes, being rich and popular means also being alone, for bringing along a relationship may be hard for the lack of privacy.

Due to her pain, Lady Gaga had to postpone her Johanne tour and I read online a lot of encouraging and supportive messages from other celebrities and from her fans. Good for her: these are things that help, along to the right meds. I loved how she pointed out that she’s lucky because she has the money to get the right and the best cures, unfortunately many of the treatments that help with chronic pain are meant to be paid by the patient.

I wish I had the financial possibility to cure myself, I wish I had more support and not only from my friends and above all I wish I had half of Lady Gaga’s spirit and energy to face chronic pain and what it brings.

If I continue to define myself by what I can’t do any more or by what others do, I will destroy my self.

TRACK OF THE DAY: The Cure- Lady Gaga

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“Medicines and surgery may cure, but only reading and writing poetry can heal” J. Arroyo

When I started this blog, I promised myself I would never vomit in it any complaint about my miserable life. I’m not a lame person or an attention seeker, but chronic illness made me fragile and living with a selfish person who doesn’t support me and rolls his eyes or complains about medical expenses or accuses me of faking diseases, doesn’t help at all. I’m lucky I have wonderful friends to lean on, but sometimes, like today, they’re not enough, so I have to use the healing power of writing.

I got very scared today: I was walking, no worries, no pressure, heading to the supermarket, then I felt a massive chest pain. I tried not to panic since at its worst, hiatus hernia pain can mimic that of a heart attack, but when my left arm went numb, I seriously started worrying. I rushed home (one of my biggest fears is to die alone in the street) and did yoga breathing exercises, chat with all the people I found online, because having also a panic attack was the last thing I needed. I drank an hot chamomile and stayed quiet until the symptoms kinda went away. In the meanwhile my mind had explored all the worst sceneries and dug out all my deepest fears. I don’t fear death, I just don’t want to leave things undone, I was looking around the room and thinking about the book to be given back to the library, to my unfinished fan-fiction, to all the things that I and only I, know, all the friends that would see me disappear without a clue, just because we don’t hang out in real life. These sorts of stupid little things. I texted a friend I called “Annoying pervert” yesterday, because I didn’t want that the last text of mine to him was that joking offence. And then I started thinking that I should tell more to my significant ones that I love them, at least my best friend has the task to tell JD how much I loved him in case I die suddenly, but the others?

I still feel crap, but better, so I decided to write this nonsense post to exorcise my fears and because I’ve always believed that writing sessions have a positive effect on my mind and, why not, on my stupid sick body.

Sorry for the rant. All the love xx.

TRACK OF THE DAY: Avalanche – Bring me the Horizon

 

 

“I was so thin I could slice bread with my shoulderblades, only I seldom had bread” Charles Bukowski

There is something I’m always reluctant to talk about and it’s my unintentional weight loss. And while everybody seems having the opposite problem and struggles between diets and gym courses, it’s hard to say that I’m losing weight without dieting or increasing physical activity. To be completely frank, I never went to a gym, I love to walk, but the closest I can ever be to a sport, is yelling at the tv while watching football, rugby or golf.

So I never talk about this, because people won’t understand, they will probably say that I’m lucky and because I noticed that skinny people are often body shamed by being called unhealthy, bunch of bones or anorexic. Should I be ashamed of my skin and bones (just to say it in Coldplay’s words)? According to the nasty looks people give me on the beach, I should and that’s so unfair.

The real problem is not being fat or being thin, but looking at the others’ bodies to imitate them or to criticise them. No one is bearer of an absolute truth, let alone the perfect body type. So, look at yourself and yourself only, lose or gain weight only for health reasons or if you (and only you) like your body and stop thinking that people like underwear models are an evil example.

So here it comes the second part of this post: visiting Victoria’s Secrets store in London. I know, I already blamed those who go to London only to show their purchases in popular places, but in my defence, I have to say that I buy my underwear in the kids section and that I was dragged there, by someone who thought I would have loved luxury and invisible panties. Let me say that lace thongs are a big NO from me, since it’s like having a rose stem in the middle of the butt cheeks, but if you fancy sexy lingerie, here’s my tips.

There are three Victoria’s Secrets stores in London: one, I’ve never been to, is next to Brent Cross area, another one, the most famous, is located in Central London at 111 New Bond Street and you can get there by hopping off either at Bond Street or Oxford Circus station. It’s not hard to find, just a cross street of Regent’s Street.

 

 

The third store is inside the Westfield Mall, next to Sheperd’s Bush Station. Well, to be clear, there are two shops: the classic and bland Victoria’s Secrets and the Pink store for younger women that has cuter and more comfortable items (according to me). Anyway both have workout clothes, tank tops, underwear… just in a different style.

 

 

So, if you like this brand and you want to wear something sexy (and expensive) for a hot night under London stars, here you are. And don’t ask me what we bought, I won’t tell you: it’s a (Victoria’s) secret.

 

 

TRACK OF THE DAY: Little Things – One Direction