Seeing Scars

Tyler Durden said, “ Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing.” Who is Tyler Durden, you ask? I would tell you but the first rule of Fight Club is…  Oh, wait. I might have given too much away already.

I am battling pain on several fronts right now.

My heart hurts. It sucks when you know that you need to let go. You have to stop waiting for the impossible to happen. But it doesn’t make it hurt less. Is better to keep silent than to tell someone what you feel? Because it hurts badly when that someone hears you but does not understand you. And even though I saw this pain coming, it still hurts.

But a hurting heart has brought me clarity on certain things. I can’t afford to wait for happiness, contentment, and peace. No one can. No one knows what tomorrow will bring. But I know what tomorrow will NOT bring me: a complete brain, regrown myelin, a drug-free life.

My time is now. I think, more than most, I am hyper-aware that my clock is ticking. Time we waste wishing for things to happen is time we can never get back. I don’t have time to waste. I’ve got to figure out how to get what I want. Right now.

My brain hurts. Well, not really. Brains don’t feel pain. Or so they say. I think brains do hurt. Thoughts can hurt, especially when they will not allow your brain to be still. Anxiety and stress can hurt. When your brain is not at peace, you do not sleep. You cannot be still. You cannot be focused. And that hurts.

I think the worst feeling in the world is knowing that you did your very best, but your best wasn’t good enough. That is when my brain hurts.

My body hurts. My back is really bothering me. I filled a prescription for a cream that I put along the back of my shoulders and neck. It smells vaguely like BenGay and feels weirdly cold. My hand hurts. Because the pain in my hand stems not from my joints or tendons but from my nervous system, it can’t be managed by Advil. MS hurts. This disease is--quite literally--all in my head. OK, technically it is in my spine too.

Derby hurts. And it is so, so worth it. My legs are so sore, I can barely make it up stairs. My arms are aching due to push-ups and planks. My ankles were screaming at me that they can’t do another lap, then thanking me after that lap is completed. Up for one more lap, body?

I know pain brings strength. And I know that the absolute best thing I can do for myself is get strong. Pain also brings clarity. It makes you recognize that certain things are worth the sacrifice. Like me. I am worth the sacrifice.

We started with Tyler Durden. Let’s end with Finnick Odair. Who is that? I would tell you but the first rule of the Hunger Games… wait, no. There are no rules in the Hunger Games. Maybe that is better. No rules means no rules ever get broken.

“It takes 10 times longer to put yourself together as it does to fall apart.” Finnick tells Katniss.

I think that the goal is to get yourself to a place where the time it takes to fall apart gets longer and longer. Maybe someday, I’ll get there.

The Beach Ball Effect

I swear, this is not going to be a pity party post. Or PPP. 

I have this theory about my life. I call it The Beach Ball Effect. There is this wonderful, colorful beach ball floating in a refreshing, clear pool. I want that beach ball, but I don't know how to swim. So I wait by the side until the gentle breeze floats it towards me.

I reach out to touch it, wanting to hold it. To possess it. But only my fingertips get to touch it. The very act of contact pushes the ball back to the middle of the water, out if reach. 

The beach ball is my happiness. I can see it, I can even touch it. But I can never, ever capture it.

The two most vital components of myself are incredibly scarred. My brain and my heart. But, I am incredibly proud of both of them. They have been played, stabbed, cheated, burned, and broken. But somehow, they still work. 

This was on my Facebook feed this morning.

As if the universe was trying to remind me that the point of life is not to capture the beach ball. Maybe the point is to just let the beach ball float away and enjoy a Piña Colada by the side of the pool. 

Or maybe the whole point of life is to learn that I can take a hit. And another. And another. And stand up and say "Is that all you got?"