Eleanore Vs. Better Vs. Easier

Dearest humans,

Earlier today I was sitting in my car waiting for my doctor appointment underneath a gorgeously blueberry sky. Living in Missouri I deal with an abundance of gloomy weather, something I am not the slightest bit fond of. This week, much to my pleasure,the sun has decided to eviscerate our gloom.

Yesterday a dear friend posted in his blog, The Dark Side of Neverland. His life has not been an easy one and he has faced some of the most difficult obstacles a human life could present. In his last post, he wrote about his past battles that lead him to where he is now; though it seems in some way his life has improved, he is still struggling in many others. This reminded me of something that I learned a while ago through my own life that I now constantly keep in mind; life getting better and life getting easier are hardly ever synonymous. 

In my own existence this has been proved multiple times. Currently I have less than I’ve ever had in my adult life. However, as my Momma Rose likes to remind me, my life is pretty great considering what I have come from. Mentally I am far healthier than previous years and though my physical health is a constant struggle, for the time being I have Medicaid to give me some assistance. I don’t have my own home, but my adoptive mothers’ home was opened up temporarily to give me more time to figure out my own way , and that has been an enormous blessing.

The last few days my depression was starting to get the best of me. In my birth mother’s voice it tells me that I am worthless, a nothing, and a failure that will never get anywhere. It tells me I’m a burden on those I love and that people in my life are sick of me, so I shouldn’t bother to build relationships. I was feeling the heavy weight of this mental venom, until Momma Rose assured me that each goal I strive to reach is  not attained quickly. I tend to forget how hard it is to build an entire life from scratch. Turns out, it isn’t exactly easy.

Most nights I go to sleep feeling as if I have failed or that I should have done more to help myself get out of my difficult situation. I am trying to get better at reminding myself that these things take time, and that I truly am doing my best. Believing it is another story, but I hope to get there soon. It is an important lesson to learn that life getting better does not mean it gets easier, because expecting that chain reaction can lead to frustration and discouragement . Often times, life getting better means it becomes harder. There is more to accomplish, more to focus on and more at risk. Since I have anxiety disorder and PTSD, the increased risk especially terrifies me. I’ve noticed over time that my anxiety actually increases the happier I am. What kind of fucked up shit is that, brain?!

It seems that one way or another, life is never uncomplicated. However, the reasons for the complexity of life varies. I love the days that I am exhausted and busy because I am spending time with people I love, writing, and adventuring about. The days that I feel exhausted because my life is too much to handle or because I am in agony from my chronic illnesses are the worst. There is certainly a difference between content exhaustion and the kind that causes suffering. I experience a good deal of both.

Life is a strange adventure, but it is the most important we’ll ever have. It will always include struggle, difficulty and a whole lot of the unknown that we won’t always know what to do about. Where does that leave us? Well, I am not exactly sure, but if we do our best with all we have (or haven’t) been given, I think this whole life thing could turn out pretty great.

When life is going well, especially for those of us who are chronically ill,we can become paranoid about when something negative will happen to ruin it. I deal with this sort of anxiety almost daily. I suppose the best thing to do is take not just one day at a time, but one single moment at a time. Enjoy the wind, the sunshine, the love, and take all we can from it, so that even in the most difficult times we will still have goodness stored within us. Of course this is easier said than done; but I think it’s worth an honest shot.

I’d imagine the whole world was one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know. They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world was one big machine, I couldn’t be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason. And that means you have to be here for some reason, too.

~Hugo

To check out my friend Jonathan’s blog, clicky clicky! It’s worth it, trust me. I’m a doctor*.

*disclaimer: I am not a doctor, not Gallifreyan or otherwise.

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