It's been a great chance to keep the grey matter stimulated, read and share with other bloggers and take on the feedback I've received.
However, there is one last post to go and I've been dreading it for a few days now if I'm honest.. This post asks me to write about Me. More specifically what I 'love' about myself.
ARRGH. I hate this type of thing and am hopeless at talking about myself. Well that's not entirely true - hopeless at talking about the good points, my flaws I could probably fill a novel with, 3 sequels and a straight to DVD movie. (Starring Bruce Forsyth as me of course - it's the big chin). See, there I go already - I can't and never have been able to take myself seriously.
I'm an idiot. I spend the majority of my time doing and saying idiotic things then laughing at how idiotic I've been. I also apologise a lot, which drives my partner and best friend absolutely round the bend, suppose it's my way of getting the apology in in advance for fear I'll shortly say/do something stupid. That's not a bad quality I suppose, idiocy. In the mildest term of the word of course, I'm a harmless idiot.
I think I'm daft and therefore laughing at myself comes easily.
I'd say one of the things I like (can't bring myself to say 'love') is my sense of humour. I love to laugh and try to surround myself with people who share in my silliness and think i'm amusing in return. Suppose most of the ridiculous things I do or say are to release that elusive guffaw and loosen up those chuckle muscles. Of course that could be mistaken for "not 'funny haha'" which would devastate me. (not really, I'm just being an idiot again).
I'm terrible at praising myself or 'bigging myself up' as the kids allegedly say. However one of the qualities I do like about myself is how loving I am - I 'love' it, in fact. I adore my partner, family and friends and sometimes squeeze the cat so hard I fear his whiskers may fall off. This loveable me can also
at times be a terrible curse, for example when my goldfish of 12years died. I was gutted. Stared at the shelf he used to sit on for days, like a lost puppy. That little guy was irreplaceable, had survived the fun-fair, 2 cats, and my dad dropping him on the kitchen Lino several times a month. RIP Dave. Anyway, before my tears threaten to dampen the keys, I'll continue.
I care too much at times (don't even know what that means? How much is too much? Squeezing your cats whiskers off?) I often end up taking a lot of the problems of others on my shoulders. This doesn't leave much room for my own. I'm not Hulk Hogan. This can be very stressful at times but I wouldn't really have it any other way, I can't stand to see people unhappy and if even just listening helps someone I will stretch those ears out to epic proportions.
Finally, I'd have to say I like my attitude to Crohn's. It tries and tries to knock me down, but like those classic 90's Prescott-bashers 'Chumba Wumba', I get back up again. (Apologies if your not in the UK as that probably means nothing to you :) )
Crohn's is a tough, tiring, physical and mental assault course and I always did come last on sports day.
But this is one race I am determined to win. X
This post was written as part of NHBPM - 30 health posts in 30 days.
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