Learning to Live Again

FB_IMG_1539019398426.jpgOne of the hardest parts of the autoimmune diagnosis, in my experience, has certainly been adjusting to my new reality. Prior to diagnosis and before I even suspected that I was sick, I was a fun-loving 30-something wife and mother. I was in the prime of my life. I had been very physically active for quite a few years. I was eating healthy, losing weight and training for a 5k. I had spent a couple of years rebuilding my life after enduring several trials and tribulations. I had a great job and had become closer to my family than I ever was before. I had even rekindled the father-daughter relationship that had become so damaged over the years. Everything seemed perfect in my life… well for awhile anyway.

When I was initially diagnosed with an autoimmune disease my first instinct was to educate myself. I read anything and everything that I could find on the subject. I researched every aspect of the diseases that I was diagnosed with. I read up on the medications that I was prescribed. I joined Facebook support groups and had many conversations with other autoimmune warriors. None of the conversations and research could ever have prepared me for the emotional roller coaster that my life would become.

I would have moments that I convinced myself that autoimmune disease probably wasn’t that big of a deal. Moments where I felt like I was still in control. I had days that I pretended nothing was wrong and that I was fine. I became so good at faking wellness that sometimes I even believed me. Then there were days that I screamed in agonizing pain. Days that I was sure that I was dealing with a death sentence. Days that I wondered if I would see my kids grow up. I grieved the loss of the life that I thought that I was building for us. I grieved the loss of me…  First School Pic 2018

It took me quite a few months of having my pity party before I was able to see the silver lining in chronic illness.  Instead of being upset about the hand that was dealt to me, I realized that I had a rare opportunity to live like I was dying.  Not many 30-somethings go through a situation so dire that they come out different than they went in.  I decided that I would stop dwelling on what has seemingly become a death sentence, and I would cherish every moment that was given to me.  Dying with no regrets has become my motto.

FB_IMG_1538675855027.jpgI have my bad days, and I have worse days.  I have very few good days, but I enjoy them when I have them.  I have the support of a loving husband and children that mean the world to me.  On my worst days, they see the ugly side of chronic illness.  I wish I could protect them from having to go through this with me, but in life the only choice that we really have is how we react to the situations that we are placed in.   Every day I have to remind myself of this.  And every day is another battle for me.



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