I am in remission from many of my chronic health things. Which isn’t to say I don’t struggle and I’m not in remission from others. I am not currently in remission from fibromyalgia/chronic pain syndrome (no, my doctors cannot decide which I have. Yes, it’s awesome), from neurofibromatosis, from my neurodivergent alphabet soup…but others I am in remission from. And it comes at an incredible cost.
There’s a delicate balance to keep this going. The things I will NEVER be in remission from and NEVER recover from can trigger the things that can be controlled to spiral again. My diet and my sleep schedule? Require to happen just so. And sometimes my other disabilities prevent that from happening. Which creates a vicious cycle, I know.
Remission doesn’t mean I’m healthy. It doesn’t mean I’m doing well, even. It means I’m doing marginally less sucky. It means that one aspect of my health is slightly less crappy than the other – and that’s not saying MUCH. It doesn’t mean I don’t still struggle. While I may not be actively puking violently from cyclic vomiting syndrome, I still struggle with nausea every day and often have to drug myself to get through. While I’ve been seizure free for years at this point, it doesn’t mean that one day (note: I do NOT have epilepsy. I had non-Epileptic seizures related to a medicine side effect but I’m told they could come back to haunt me) I will not have one again.
It’s hard. I still live in fear of remissions. I live in fear that my delicate balance will get thrown off kilter and that I will no longer be in remission. It’s just so HARD. I fight and I struggle and I try to LIVE and I am scared that one day I will no longer be able to. I am scared that one day I will be longer to be able to do the things I love. I had to leave my passions in school behind. I had to leave my dreams of a career behind. And it’s been a REALLY difficult pill to swallow. It’s been incredibly difficult to realize that yes, I am disabled and yes, I will always be. There’s no way to candy coat it, sugar coat it, make it prettier. I can’t work a job despite having some things in remission because others just aren’t and it isn’t feasible for them to be despite being on all the best medications.
I wrote this in the middle of the night, while listening to music, and scheduled it to publish during my neurologist appointment. I don’t have a normal sleep schedule. I don’t have a normal eating schedule. Nothing about me is normal…and it’s a ticking time bomb in some ways. It’s a mess but at the same time, it’s my mess. It’s my life. I’ve accepted it. Embraced it. And am moving on with it. Because it’s all a part of who I am. The bad health stuff, the good health stuff, the alphabet soup of brain cooties. It all adds up to me. And while remission comes at an incredible cost… I’m okay with that.