Today, for you, yes!
In the past few months I’ve met a lot of new people and made new friends. When I meet new people and they find out about my health shit, one of two things usually happen; either they’re very curious, or don’t really care. You all know that I love answering questions and lately I’ve been getting a lot of “Why do you do this if it will make your pain worse?” My quick answer is that I love being around people.
The whole truth is that the wild child in me still thinks she’s wild enough to pull off being “normal”, do normal, everyday things. So, my answer to “you down?” will, most likely, always be “yes!” Do I know my limits, absolutely, will I often ignore them because I want to see you, hang out with you, experience life with you, definitely. So, I go skiing on my days off with you, I go to the club and dance, I sit with you by the river at 3am, I drive to come pick you up when you’re drunk. Because, although I know, that the pain will get worse, that my body will crash, that I shouldn’t be doing this, I choose to because of you, for those memories, for those late-night drives, for those conversations. I choose to assume the risk because I feel that my life is about those moments in between the overwhelming pain. I might be a control freak, and I try to get ahead of the pain, hold it off, avoid it, but after years of trying and failing, I’m glad there’s been moments where I’ve assumed the risk. How much of a risk is it, if you know it’s coming anyway? But then, my best days turn into some of the worst nights, then comes the harsh reminder, that maybe I’m not all that “normal”, maybe I can’t just fake my way through it. But for now, I’ll play the game my way, I’ll assume the risk, because the pain will spike regardless of what I do to stop it.
Therapists often talk about your inner child and how you should nurture them; however, I feel it’s my inner teenager that needs some attention. She wasn’t allowed to thrive, she wasn’t able to experience life, she was pushed into adulthood and survival mode, she didn’t get to party, make mistakes, be a teenager. She was in treatment, hospitals and doctors’ appointments. I guess some part of me is trying to hold on to her, give her a bit of life and freedom to be. Maybe doing these things are my way of nurturing her, trying to hold off that regret just a bit longer. I know, I had no control over what happened during my teenage years, but not having experienced them makes me feel robbed, and I know that it will be a regret I hold onto for a very long time. I know it doesn’t make sense, and it doesn’t work like that, but I’m going to continue trying anyway.
Today, I say yes, today, we party, but tomorrow, maybe I can’t call you back, maybe I fall off the face of the earth for a few days…can you please be okay with that?