Right now I am obsessed with finding just the right eyelash primer. Yes, it is important, I tell myself as I read yet another web posting the best-selling eyelash primer of 2014. I read the reviews and am still undecided. So, I go to Ulta yet again, and buy another tube of eyelash primer, just to see if this one is better than the one I got the day before. I mean really, I want to know just how long I can get my lashes to look without the help of falsies. At this moment in time, it seems that there is not a question in the world that needs answering more than this.
As I run around busying myself with the mundane I wonder what it is that I am avoiding. My world is really full of wonderful things, I am finding a sense of fulfillment with God that is better than I have ever known, my heart is full to the brim. So what is making me want to shop till I drop for eyelash enhancers? The question runs around in my makeup filled brain. Well, it is not that filled with makeup, just partially.
As I was in my group on Monday night when it was my turn to speak I could not stop crying. As I talked about the things that I have been through over the last 10 years I could not stop the tears from steaming down my cheeks. There are five of us in my group, two men and three women. They are kind and compassionate, the type of safe environment that accepts my tears and allows me to just be me. I heard the pain, I am not quite sure what it is all about, but as I calmed I felt the hurt still sitting there, in that hollow place in my chest. It was lurking, waiting to burst out at another convenient welcoming time. The drive home was with my husband, Jim, and as we talked, the tears slipped over my cheeks. I talked with him about the fears I have, the fears of my illness coming back, of being sick. It reminds me of how ill I really was, of how I did not feel like I was allowed to really tell people how bad it was, of not really even knowing it myself. I finally know how bad it was, now that I finally feel so much better.
I read about a woman who was feeling bad of and on for some time and went to the doctor because she was feeling a “little tired”. She told the doctor it would come and go. The doctor told her she had a severe case of mononucleosis. She was shocked, questioning the findings as she did not really feel that bad. But she went home and followed the doctor’s orders and finally got better over time. She said when she was finally well, she was shocked by how good she felt, it made her realize how sick she really was.
That was me only multiplied. As I look back over my lengthy illness, I see it slowly became who I was. It changed not only my energy level, but my physical body, my mental and emotional state and even the way I looked. It was so gradual that no one even saw the major transformation, and the things that I did know, and see, were discounted as aging or some other excuse. The failing of all parts of my being sucked me dry, and as I became less able to function, my sense of value, of who I was and why I mattered also withered.
I have been spending some time working on photo albums that cover the span of years during my illness. I see the change, the gradual and progressive change in the person caught in the lens of a camera. Caught in that picture and caught in a whirlwind of something that was slowly making me into someone I did not know. As I gradually recovered, started getting better, the illness played games with me, just when I thought it was over I was no longer in remission. So the game of finding the right medication, the right combination of drugs to keep me well began. That has lasted over two years, until finally the FDA approved a drug that is just for what I have. I started twice daily shots about 6 months ago. It is very expensive, making me wonder how much I am worth. It would seem a lot, and I am grateful for insurance each day.
As I become more comfortable with being well (it scares me just to say well) I need to feel the fear and process it. I understand that I have been sick for such a long time and it is something that is hard to let go. I want to embrace life and not run from it. I want to make a difference. To tell others what a person can go through and come out better because of it, in spite of it. I want to have this time of wellness and live in it, but I am afraid it may not last. Perhaps that is what makes a person really live each day to the fullest. The reality that this day may be the best one they ever have. What a shame it would be to waste the best day ever.