Inching Forward, Thankfully

It's not quick, and it's not linear, but holy smokes my health does seem to be stabilizing. I can fall asleep at night, wake up kind of the same person every morning, make a plan with myself and stick to it, and spend a significant part of most days somewhat productive. My flares no longer consume me, they merely suck. They don't render me housebound, utterly destroy my psyche, and send me reeling backward for months on end. Phew. That was a horrible, terrible, no good, very long flare that seems to have met its match. Thank God.

While in the throes of my two-year relapse, I lost hope. Not only that, but I lost my faith as well. Hindsight explains why things got so bad. How on earth was a sick, hopeless, faithless girl supposed to keep looking up? I believe given my particular set of circumstances mixed with my personality type, I would have been suffering from extreme delusions and denial if I hadn't utterly freaked out. At least I didn't detach from reality; I floated down the river of misery fully aware of my surroundings. Thank God for that.

My anger and bitterness stem from my helplessness. I can't imagine how different it would be to have an illness the world at large believes is real. Since I don't, I spend my life playing "Me Against the World" on repeat, fending off double invaders: the very real disease attacking my body and the public perception that I must be insane to consider myself sick--seeing as I look so healthy and smile so much. But now that I've got a wobbly sort of control over this disease, I don't feel so helpless. This means I'm not seeking approval, I'm focused on getting my life back and doing so in a way that doesn't make me feel awful. For this shift in my perspective I am astoundingly grateful.

I am toiling tirelessly to reclaim every inch of my lost self. I aim to be better than I was at my best, and strive to go beyond that. Someday. But today I'm paying attention to the pain in my body and melding it with how to complete my lowly To Do list required to get ready for Thanksgiving. I'm taking joy in walking my dogs in the late November sunshine and how powerful it feels to contort my aching limbs into a simple routine of yoga poses. No longer consumed with that ugly bitterness, it seems I've found my lost hope and am thankfully shuffling forward.

Thanks for joining,

Leah