The Human Spirit Is Hard To Destroy, Even When Your Body Is Being Destroyed

I logged in today with no intention really to even write, but just to read some of the bloggers I follow. I had no motivation to write myself. I had the day from Hell, felt a little broken, and can’t think very well when I feel this way. I started reading some of the emails I have been receiving from some people all over the world, some I know will be reading this post, so I just want to say thank you. You have no idea how one comment or one email can really turn someones day around.

A particular email did just that for me today. It was from a very kind person in Australia who has followed my blogs and posts for quite some time. She asked in her email how I was feeling and how I was doing because I hadn’t written about my health or my condition lately. This is a complete stranger, someone I will likely never meet, and the genuine compassion and concern in this email is one that brought me to tears instantly that I felt like I had to attempt to write how I was feeling. 

So, with that, where to even begin? I could try a describe it as simple as saying it’s been an absolute joke, almost literally, to the point where it pains me to not laugh at the different forms of pain my body has experienced this year and this past month specifically. 

If I’m being honest and transparent, which I have a really hard time doing, I would have to admit that I am at a point where I am genuinely scared.

There’s so much unknown when your life changes the way mine has the last year. Never knowing truly if I’ll get better, or yet, even stable. There’s the constant fear that I’ll spend the rest of my days in pain or that my dreams will no longer be realistic or attainable. It is something I struggle with every minute of every day, especially as of late.

The pain I’ve been feeling is one that runs so deep that I try so hard to bury it.

I want to cover my pain up so I don’t hurt the people near me, yet I wind up hurting them anyway. It’s becoming easier to let go of the things I value most because I just don’t have the energy to embrace them anymore. Things I used to enjoy, things that made me happy, do nothing but drain my energy to the point where even the thought of them isn’t enjoyable now.

It’s a pain that makes me doubt my own existence. One that causes me more guilt as I watch more people slowly fade away from my life because they understandably get tired of waiting for the moment when I’ll be that friend they became friends with to begin with. Believe me, I get tired of waiting for that day also.

It’s a pain that forces me to just suck up all the hurtful things people can say when they don’t understand and remind myself that it’s better to be lost alone in this than to drag other people with me. It’s a pain that makes me feel like I will continue to drown until being weak becomes all that I am.

The human spirit is hard to destroy, even when the human body is being destroyed.

It’s hard sometimes to not let my spirit get crushed when my bones themselves do. My life has been so strange this last year. When I think back to how I am even to this point today it literally feels like one minute I had everything going for me and the very next I became faced with this insane reality; that every morning will bring a relief to just know that I am still alive and that I am still fighting. I try my hardest to embrace these thoughts and carry myself with pride and dignity during this setback – knowing that it is how I choose to react in this that defines who I really am as a person.

I continue to hold on to that fine balance between reality and hope.

Finding that balance is what is carrying me through the scariest times with my health and the darkest times with my emotions. I feel that when I hold on to hope I submit to the control of the unknown, trusting that I am right where I’m supposed to be at this point in my life, whether pleasant or not. I can control the actions I take and the thoughts I allow, but I can’t control the outcomes, and that’s something I try and remember each day when I get out of bed and fight for the energy to make it through another day.

I never really knew how much of a fighter I was until fighting became the only choice I had.

Call it what you will but when your body is fighting against its own self every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every day, I really do feel a sense of reward knowing that I am stronger than the autoimmune deficiencies going on inside of me, even if it’s the medication helping along the way.

I had to realize that I had to be my own support system. Yes, I have some amazing people around me but people have their own struggles going on. No one can ever fully be your cheerleader. Learning to be okay with who I am and who I continue to become because of this had made me a stronger person, I do believe that. It has put into perspective things that matter and things that don’t. Each time I get to look at the beautiful sunrise reflect over the mountains as I drive into work I am reminded that even through it all I am blessed to have the opportunity to take part in this hectic world for another day.

Sometimes it is difficult, but deep down I truly believe that the human body is capable of more than we realize. 

I believe that our bodies want to live in a constant state of wellness. I believe that if I continue to buckle down, stay strong, and remain in-tune with what I’m feeling that in time my body will recover.

Until that time I have to remember what my Grandmother always told me growing up – that each day is really a gift. Call it cliche, call me naive, but it wasn’t until I had to enter this battle that I realized just how true those words really are.

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