This year has been one of the most challenging years I’ve ever experienced. But still, I’m here for it. 

I have been in a wheelchair for years, due to issues stemming from my Systemic Sclerosis, (Scleroderma). A little over a year ago, I went through some changes in how my doctors are treating my illness. Instead of trying to stop it, which wasn’t happening, they are treating my worst symptoms, with the intent of increasing my quality of life. Who knew that this would change everything?

I have been working hard through PT, OT, and training to regain my mobility. It’s taken a lot of determination, motivation, and commitment. Today I barely even use my cane. My wheelchair collects dust until the next big adventure that requires being in one position for an extended period, walking long distances, long days, venues with long ramps or uneven ground, etc., or during an unexpected flare. When I say it’s been challenging, it feels understated. It’s hurt, consumed a lot of time, left me in tears feeling defeated, thinking it’s all for nothing, and many other mind-fuck games our brains like to play. 

As with any illness, stress has the biggest negative impact on the body, mind, and soul. I never thought my peace would be challenged like it has been this last year. My mom’s Alzheimer’s has progressed rapidly, leaving her needing more time and support from myself and the family. On top of that, our lives took an unexpected turn as we accepted a difficult task at a major crossroads for our family. To say we’ve been under immense pressure, like nothing we’ve faced before, is a true statement. This one life-changing need in our family has had me at the maximum stress level I’m capable of working through.

I believe that every moment in our lives is a chance to learn something about ourselves, an opportunity to change and become a better version of ourselves, and once we learn the lesson, peace returns to one’s life. I have spent a lot of time on my knees this past year begging God to tell me what I’m supposed to be learning from all of the melancholy chaos we’ve endured. Why make me physically stronger just to throw a monkey wrench into my mental health, peaceful home, family, and positive take on life? 

Through this challenging time, for myself and my family, I have learned that change can often take more effort than anticipated. I learned that even if you give your full effort, things don’t always get better. I learned that I am worthy of all that effort. I learned that those I love are worthy of my effort. I learned that it’s ok to temporarily disengage from many things that were important to me to prioritize my physical healing and my family’s needs at this time. I learned that when things are broken, they can’t always be fixed, and this goes for people as well. I learned that picking up the pieces doesn’t mean that all of those pieces can be put back together. I learned that there are people in my life who will walk through fire for me and I for them. I learned that some care enough to wait in my silence for me to heal and allow me the space needed to work on healing my family. I learned that not everyone is my friend. I learned that some people forgot about me, during my much-needed silent healing journey. I learned that everyone is going through something, and I have endless gratitude for anyone who takes a minute to check in and remind me they’re there and ready to help if I need them. I learned that a kind gesture doesn’t have to be elaborate, it’s the small reminders people give, letting me know that even though I’m not present at the moment, they are there when I’m ready. I learned that yes, I am strong, but I’m also at times fragile. I learned that where there’s a will, there’s a way is a damn lie. But still, I’m here for it. 

I hold those who have taken the time to let me know they’re always there with me in the highest regard. To those who disappeared, I have nothing but hope that their journey is a happy one. For those whose mental capacity is flooded with struggles, leaving them drowning, please know you’re not alone. I want you to know I haven’t much emotional space to share at this moment. But still, I’m here for it.