My mother cried today.
It seems as though I am looking straight into the mirror every time her tear-stained eyes peer into mine while she sobs into my lap. I have begun to grow more and more familiar with the depths of sadness that she suffers from. It’s always a type of sadness that she cannot form into words, much like mine.
The most painful part of this journey we’ve been walking with HD is that I do not know how to ease her torment, and it absolutely kills me.
Within the adversity that comes with watching someone I love the most turn into a person that I recognize less and less every day, I believe that I might have taken a wrong turn somewhere.
All of my goals, hopes, and ambitions that consisted of taking a devastating disease and making the most out of this heavy life that I have been handed now seems to be crumbling into tiny pieces that continue to fall in between the cracks of my tightly clenched fists.
From the beginning, I believed that complete transparency would be the driving force that might allow me to bring others together who are waging the same war…but lately, I have been in a constant state of anger, bitterness, and self-pity. People can sense it within the words that I type, and all of these negative feelings have slowly started to melt into regret.
I hate to think that anything I have been open about within the past couple of months might have affected others in a negative way, but at the same time, I cannot bring myself to write anything other than the truth. That is, my truth.
I could have chosen the smooth, paved road of constant, portrayed positivity, but as Bo Bennett once said, “For every good reason there is to lie, there is a better reason to tell the truth.”
So, here is my truth: I have good days and bad days. I have terribly long bouts of despair and isolation, and I have weeks that consist of hope, unity, and friendship. At times, I have dreadfully sinful jealous tendencies towards people who seem “normal,” and then I’ll have pure moments of clarity that allow me to see the good within a seemingly dark pit of despair.
I cannot control this chaotic roller coaster within my mind, but I can be truthful about it. Even though things might seem terrible within this season of my life, I have to return to knowledge rather than emotion, and I know, even in my darkest hour, that there is hope to be found. Searching for it can be a tireless and tedious journey, but it always tends to show up.
I’m not quite sure if I am writing this for myself, for others, or for both, but I believe that it is extremely important for everyone to know that it’s okay to not be okay.
The universe has never failed to produce a dawn…even after the longest, darkest nights.
I am always watching for it, and it always comes.
Keep your eyes open, my loves.