This morning my neighbor said to me “If there wasn’t something going wrong every minute of my life, then it wouldn’t be my life.” My neighbor is disabled, needs a wheelchair, canes, and an assistance dog. I laughed and told him “you and me both.” Sometimes, I have tendency to lose sight of the picture when I start feeling sorry for myself. It is not just RA and FMS; I have always had a difficult life. I have worked hard for everything that I have gotten and the only thing I have to show for it is an enormous amount of debt.
At the same token, the fact that I have always had a difficult life and spent more time trying to better my life, rather than dwell, is what sets me apart and makes me unique. A disability is exactly what it is; it is a handicap, and a handicap not necessarily physical. It could be something that holds us back. My life is chaotic and when I look around me, it doesn’t seem, despite all my progress, that the chaos wants to end.
I can’t help that I am an overachiever, but being that way creates a sacrifice. Regardless of the need to rest and to slow down because of my health, I refuse to. I probably should slow down but slowing down reminds me how sick I am going to get, and I don’t want my conditions to win. People look at me and admire me for my strength, my patience, and my intelligence and the majority do not realize the battle that I fight every single day. Some mornings, I can barely get my eyes open and every inch of my body aches. Many nights, I go to bed in pain and then I awake again in pain.
I keep wondering whether my health is my wake-up call, but I am not ready to give in. I want to keep going despite every obstacle that jumps in my way. I remind myself that hope is the one thing that keeps me going and believing that all things are possible. Hope allows me to see why I get up every day and live my life with and despite RA and FMS. My boys are my world and I wouldn’t be a good enough mother if I didn’t teach them to preserve.
My husband spends a lot of time being upset about my health, and even though he won’t admit it, he is scared to death about the my direction my health might go into. I reassure him, my kids, and myself that my conditions will never win. I don’t know if I ever will go into remission, but I keep promising my family that will, and it is that hope that they have that keeps me going.
I am not saying that it will ever be easy, but as my neighbor said, “If there wasn’t something going wrong every minute of my life, then it wouldn’t be my life.” My life is not easy but it is my life, and if it were easy, I wouldn’t have been prepared for my RA and FMS to invade my already chaotic life. Further, if my life were easy, I wouldn’t be able to get up every morning and fight.