Who I Was and Who I Will Be


I don’t even know how to begin writing this wistful nothing of thought, but I guess I’ll start with this.

I was never meant to be locked indoors. My makeup is to be outside with nature – to be part of it. I was born with energy pulsing through my body, an energy that is revitalized every time I feel the sun hit my skin heat my blood. The minute I smell the fresh air I feel such freedom. Nothing  can hold me back in these moments.

Except, of course, my MS. The disease that decided to take away my ability to run, to walk, to just move properly for any period of time. The disease that is taking away my autonomy. The stupid disease that is taking my own body away from me.

I miss my old body. I miss the strength I used to feel in my muscles and bones. I miss how powerful I felt as I moved and the control I had. I don’t even have to stand up anymore to feel how different, how weak, my body is now. And everyday it kills a little piece of my soul to feel so helpless and dependent.

I miss taking long walks while listening to music. This was my original form of self therapy. It was the time I used to reflect over everything that had happened that day and what was going to happen in the coming days. I would look up at the stars and think of how huge the universe was and how insignificant my problems were overall. It was a sobering and humbling time for me. It’s such a small thing that I can’t even do anymore.

I miss running. I actually used to love doing this. It was my exercise of choice when I was feeling stressed, sad, angry, etc. or when my body just felt like it had too much energy. Running made me feel like I was flying, and in my dreams I still remember what it was like: the pull of muscles being pushed, the beating of my heart, the burning in my lungs after awhile. I enjoyed these things. I enjoyed pushing myself to go just a little bit faster, run just a little while longer. But my memories of what it was like are starting to disappear and I know once they’re gone I’ll never be able to get them back. I’ll never run again.

I miss basketball, the sport that stole my heart. The one sport I consistently played. The sport that was taken from me before I even really had the chance to begin. I played basketball starting in elementary school and ending the summer after 8th grade. I thought my knees were messed up so I took a year off to rest them up and let them heal. My MS exacerbated and I was unable to play ever again. And like I said, I miss it.

God help me but my bitterness over everything I’ve lost is going to suffocate me. All I can think of is all the things I’ve lost. I’m not sure what I’ve gained from my disease. I think it’s safe to say that I haven’t actually gained anything from it except a slight understanding of a disease I had had no prior knowledge of. To be honest, the trade off doesn’t really make me feel any better.

I know this is a ridiculous thing to write. It serves no purpose other than making me feel better for getting it out… But I hate who I am now and miss who I was then, and I don’t know how to not feel that way. I don’t know what to do with my life knowing that my MS, already being this bad, is only gonna get worse.

I am trying though. I took this semester off school to try and figure out what I want to even go to school for. I have plans of going back this fall. I have incredible friends who I am always trying to do right by and who always, always, always have my back. My family, for the most part, is incredibly supportive of my decisions, even when they are outrageous. And my boyfriend loves me regardless of my insecurities though I know they can sometimes drive a wedge between us. I love them all dearly and I don’t know what I would do without them though it’s safe to say I’d probably drown in a pool of self-pity.

I understand that who I was isn’t necessarily who I was meant to be. It’s still hard. I don’t know where I fit in anymore. I haven’t for a long time. I want my life to mean something, as most people do, I’m just not sure what yet. I don’t know how to accomplish things when I can’t even tell if I’ll be able to get out of bed next week. But I am figuring it out. I exaggerate my own stubbornness to keep myself from giving up. I lie to myself to keep myself from giving in. And I force myself to smile and laugh everyday to keep myself from living in bitterness one-hundred percent of the time.

Just keep on keepin’ on, I always say. Tomorrow may not be better, but at least I get to see it.





One Comment Add yours

  1. Keep writing. That’s one thing I hope you keep doing. Sending you love.

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