Is this thing on? Kidding, although considering how technologically challenged I am, it’s a miracle I was able to turn my computer on, let alone create this blog. I never imagined myself ever creating a blog, but hey, it’s 2020, I’ve got a few things to say, and frankly, I ought to get with the times. So, here I am.
First and foremost, hi. Welcome. I’m so glad you’re here. Whether you have any experience with chronic illness, or if you’re an extended family member I’ve bribed to visit this page (hi Aunt Nancy, coffee’s on me this time…), I hope you can find something in these posts that resonates with you and makes you feel seen. A few weeks ago, I stumbled across a quote that shifted my perspective on the isolation suffering can bring. It said, “All the things that make us feel alone connect us.” I like the sound of that, and I also like the thought that this blog could be that kind of connector. That it could encourage us to use our stories of pain and hardship to bring us together, uncovering the powerful, resilient nature of the human spirit that lives inside each and every one of us.
It was a little over a year ago when a chronic health condition took over my entire life. Over the course of a few months, I went from being a self-sufficient, independent college student to having a hard time showering or preparing a meal for myself. It was a lot to process – too much to process, really – so, I started writing. At the time, writing was out of necessity, a means of survival; something to keep my shattered spirit alive. And while it certainly has kept my battered heart beating, writing has also filled my days with infinite light, immense gratitude, and deep, true joy. Putting pen to paper has saved me again and again throughout my health journey, and I’ve been holding onto that buoy ever since.
Over the past few weeks however, I’ve begun to wonder if my writing could be more than just a personal pastime. I wondered if I could use my words to raise awareness about a disease that affects more than 3 million people nationwide, yet is unfamiliar to a frightening portion of the medical world, and even more unknown to the general population. I thought maybe if I could tell my story about being a young person faced with illness, it would make other people faced with illness (young or not so young) feel a little less alone in their shocking “new normal”. And then I pondered, what if I shared what I’ve learned about living the unlivable, about putting one weary foot in front of the other even when I was fresh out of reasons why, and what if doing so actually helped someone? Encouraged them to keep truckin’ through their own unimaginable? If my writing does any one of these things, then this blog will have served its purpose.
I plan to speak about my own health journey through this site, but I would like to preface that with one thing: while my journey certainly embodies a lengthy experience with a chronic, debilitating health condition, from the very beginning, it has always been larger than that. Sure, it is a tale bred from doctor’s appointments, ER visits, referrals, and at long last, a diagnosis. But from the minute my illness made itself known, I unknowingly embarked on a journey of faith, a discovery of strength, and a quest for joy in the darkest days of my life. This story of mine is not solely a story about illness, it is also a story about hope.
On my darkest days, hope shined inside of me like a flashlight, piercing through the blackest of nights and illuminating the way forward. On the toughest mornings, hope pulled me off the bathroom floor, pushed back my shoulders and straightened up my spine, convincing me to keep forging ahead. Hope was there, always, somehow, even when it felt like my illness took everything from me. No matter how great the storm or how extensive the wreckage, hope never left my side.
This past year has taught me a lot about hope. I’ve learned that it comes as a concentrate, that you only need a little, and a little is enough. I’ve learned that it’s indestructible, that it can weather the hardest of angers, the fiercest of resentments, and that hope is stronger still. Perhaps that is the most important thing I’ve learned, how strong hope truly is. It is stronger than pain, stronger than fear, so strong in fact, it is unbreakable.
That hope lives inside all of us, but it belongs to those who tap into it. The ones who look defeat in the eye, and instead, choose hope.