I am not what I have

Since finally understanding what part of my diagnosis is, I feel like I can get a better grip on things. Now that I know what’s going on, I can learn to manage a new lifestyle. The night before the doctor told me, I had a feeling that that’s what it was and I finally said the words out loud. I remember several months ago…I saw a woman (on tv) and she looked and explained her condition and I thought – wow, that must be what this feels like. And I knew. I cried a bit when the doctor confirmed it but after that I felt relieved and okay about it because now I know what to do. I am blessed. I have survived without the worst of what would have typically happened to a person in my case. What I have is not fatal. What I have is not visible. What I have is not going to go away. But what I have is not who I am.

I am not weak – though my nervous system is in a frenzy. I am not falling behind – though my immobility slows me down. I am not fragile – though my muscles are damaged.

I have a mess of a spine but I have never had a stronger backbone.

My physical brokenness brought life to my mental capabilities. My life has not been long yet but even at 28, I realize I’ve endured and conquered what may be (and hopefully is) the worst to come my way.

I’ve realized something…I’m a freaking beast!

Whether you have depression or you have Lyme disease…you’re not suffering alone. Whether you have PTSD or you have diabetes…you’re not suffering alone. Whether you have anxiety or MS…you’re not suffering alone.

We were born sinners; imperfect. Therefore we have flaws – each and every one of us.

Some flaws are easier to hide, some are not. Some flaws we can ignore most of the time, some we can’t.

Whatever it is that you have does not define who you are or what you are capable of. You’re here, which means you’re already winning the fight. Sometimes you may feel like you’ve lost…when you haven’t moved from your bed all day and you can’t turn on the lights because your eyes are too sensitive from all of the crying. I’m here to tell you, it’s okay! Cry on. Have your day of misery and spend some time in it. But don’t stay in it. Those tears don’t make you weak, they make you aware. Spending the day in bed doesn’t make you pathetic, it makes you empathetic to the rest your body may need.

Trust me, I understand that those things are sometimes involuntary. My motto for my bedridden days is : Rest Makes Me Depressed. It truly does. I’m not and have never been one to be able to relax on my own. When I can’t physically move, my mind races and panics about all of the things I should or wish I could do.

But then I see all of what I have accomplished in the absolute worst point of my life! So, this time, say it with me:

I’m a beast!

Say it like you mean it because you, my TheraPatron, are a beast!

This place is an uneasy one. I am able to get by because I read and hear other people who are also suffering and I fall in love with their stories, their courage to share, their willingness to help others get through their own mess. I hope that my mess may be that for you, a way out of your own mess.

God Bless

🖤

Posted in Art

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