It’s been so long since my last post. In the time during my absence, a notable change has occurred – the end of one decade of my life and the beginning of another one, yes, since my last post two months ago I have turned 30 years of age! Of course, the occasion was somewhat low-key, opting for a spa break consisting of being pampered instead of a large party with family and friends which could only exacerbate new feelings of fatigue, and which flashing lights and loud music would be intolerant for the dizziness and vertigo that are already problematic.
It’s funny that when on the precipice of such a milestone is the reflection, not just on the past thirty years of one’s life but a reflection on future plans and the possibilities that lie ahead for the next thirty years. Then there is the barrage of questions that people pose on such occasions, such as “How do you feel?” or “What are your plans now?” It’s as if people view these birthday milestones, such as turning 30, 40, 50 as a beginning of a whole new chapter of our lives. The past finished within the pages of previous chapters and we are reborn as whole new characters in the story of our lives with endless opportunities that await us in the big wide world.
When living with a neurological condition, or other chronic illnesses, however, the view is very much different…for us, these milestones are not the precipice for change and unfortunately are not reborn with a new future and endless possibilities awaiting us. Our bodies are still very much broken and the symptoms that tormented us during the previous chapters that are the story of our lives still very much exist.
Pain, fatigue, dizziness amidst the other symptoms that I live with was unaware and didn’t care that it was my thirtieth birthday and they still made their presence felt on a day that was mine. And even since, my thirtieth birthday the promise of a new beginning and chapter has proved to be unfruitful, and the symptoms have been unrelenting as ever.
This has especially been true regarding the pain and trembling in both of my legs. Recently, I read a book that described the pain as a universal human experience. Whether the pain is a physical sensation or through emotional turmoil, pain is something that we will all experience during our lives.
And I totally agree, but although we are all united in the shared experience of pain, isn’t it funny that when we are in the midst of experiencing pain, it feels like an entirely lonely place? This was the case during our recent spa break, when I found myself, in the early hours of my birthday, in excruciating pain while sharing a twin room with my Mum who was sound asleep.
Trapped in a body where the pain is ravaging my legs, in unfamiliar surroundings and during the early hours of the morning where everything was still and silent, felt completely alone as if I were the only person alive experiencing pain. Of course, I am not and visiting social media sites such as Twitter and reading the posts from others emphasises the realisation that I am not alone in the fight against chronic pain and that there is an unwavering amount of support from those who understand and live with pain themselves.
It was not just the pain however that has made me feel lonely and isolated as of late, but also the severe trembling of the legs that has often rendered me unable to venture far from wherever I am at the time. More time being spent lying on my bed reading or watching TV programmes or films on my iPad. Even going out, more time is spent sitting in coffee shops enjoying the warm, luxurious taste of hot chocolate while talking with whomever I’m with or spending some time reading. Anything but traipsing around shops as legs often feel like they are too weak to support my weight. This has been particularly emphasised by the number of times my legs have collapsed from under me leading to some rather embarrassing falls in public.
The pain and trembling it seems has made my world smaller once again. Perhaps that is why I have found myself reading more books in recent times, as the stories that I am reading is able to take my mind to new places when my body is limiting to the places that I can physically visit.
In our lives we find that a lot of chapters close and new ones begin, waiting to be written but certain elements within our personal journeys remain, such as living with a neurological condition, chronic illness or disability as an example. However, that is not to say that they have to dictate our narrative, or that the narrative cannot change. It just means that we need to take over the reins of the journey and find ways to take back our control and new ways to cope with the obstacles that are in our way. As the esteemed writer, Nora Ephron famously said: “Be the heroine of your life, not the victim.”
And as I wave goodbye to my twenties and enter a new decade of my life, I hope to become the heroine of my own story, to look forward to the future and the new possibilities and opportunities that lie ahead…
