My Invisible BFF

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Happy 3-Year Brainaversary to Me

Well it’s that time of year again that I relive my most intense moments starting at the very end of August 2016, and look back at the relative shitshow of symptoms that have multiplied and taken my life hostage these past three years. I wrote this one sleepless night not too long ago, under the covers, on my phone with my money thumb on my left hand, and I think it’s the best way I can “celebrate”. Because if you don’t have hope, what else is there?

I’m still hopeful 

I’m still hopeful for good moments, even though symptoms knock me down at every turn. 

I’m still hopeful that I can do life; even when my bed and cocoon are my only respite for hours on end, every damn day.

I’m still hopeful that I will one day be able to open the curtains to look outside again and see the energized city and peaceful nature without the glaring light making it impossible.

I’m still hopeful that “menial” tasks like going to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and showering will become easy and less daunting/exhausting.

I’m still hopeful that my friends who have understandably moved on with their lives will be there for me when I am ready to reach out; and fun times will be had by all once more.

I’m still hopeful that my eyesight and all the HOD shitshow of symptoms will not be featured on the highlight reel of my days.

I’m still hopeful that my life has purpose and that I have many gifts; especially remembering this when I’m in stuck in a symptom vortex.

I’m still hopeful that my symptoms will someday somehow improve and/or stabilize; stability is awesome.

When you have an intense inoperable case, and the doctors say there’s nothing they can do—hope is golden. The way I see it, since my prognosis is unknown, turning to hope and spinning the hell out of these scenarios is my only way through this. I’m still hopeful.

xoxo,

elo


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