Diseased, Not Destroyed

Me at 17 after my fourth surgery for endometriosis and ovarian cysts

I was about nine years old when the firsts started exhibiting symptoms. They say it started with mind pounding pain, then nausea, hunger, and then a dull nothing. I remember hearing rumors about the disease’s existence. A downtown dance team was all stricken with a mutation of the sickness, but I did not know them, so it seemed more like a scary story told to children to encourage them to eat healthy. It never really hit me until one of my bestest friend was affected. One day she came into school, her mother had packed her a hearty lunch. Her cartoon lunch box was filled with a sandwich, crackers, and an apple. I watched her as she nibbled on bits of all of it, just enough where she could throw it away without having anyone be too suspicious. I remember asking her questions about why she did not want more, she would say that she does not feel very well, and I thought I understood, but as the illness developed, I quickly found out I did not. It only took a couple weeks for her skin to change to a pale hue and for her extremities to slim down. She got weaker every day, it became difficult for her to do her normal activities. Her belly protruded out, as her body fought to feed its most important organs without any replenishment. The worst part might be the way the mind tricks the victim’s brains, causing them to view the world and themselves as if they were looking into a fun house mirror.

I remember the day, my mother told me my friend was so sick she was in the hospital. My mom explained she could die, that her heart could give out. I was afraid, I did not want to get sick like her and I did not want to lose my friend. As I got older it seemed the disease spread, and I met so many people who had at least for a time been stricken with the symptoms.

There is only one way to combat this illness and the prevention has to begin young. Immunization was not possible. You see, the only way to contract the sickness is to make many small seemingly inconsequential choices to become ill. The victims had been in control from a young age, but eventually the illness would take over.

I remember as it spread, looking into my full-length mirror. I twirled around. I was a young girl at the start of puberty, in a middle class Caucasian household. I had strong legs, and still held onto some pudgy handles around my midsection (the beginnings of my curvy figure). When I thought about my friend, I looked a lot like her when she first got sick. I realized, I was the perfect host for the disease. My reflection began to taunt me. I could understand the disease for the first time. For a brief moment, I wanted to be sick like so many of my friends. It seemed easier. But I shook that feeling off and decided that to save myself from it, I needed to get healthier. I began to work out every day without fail. I began refusing treats that I did not like as well as others, surprising my friends’ parents. Within a couple weeks, my arms became more toned, by stomach flattened, and I had more energy than ever.

It would be many more years until I fully understood the illness and that the inability to eat was simply a symptom of a larger issue. Not only were people in my community affected, but people across the world had been for yeas. For me, confidence seemed to come naturally, I thought I was immune to the illness. But as time went on people and things began to chip away at my feelings of self-love and respect. In this world filled will darkness, it becomes increasingly easier to be disappointed what we look like, sound like, or who we are. Recently, it has come to my attention how hurt I am by some of my friends. Most of them are not even intentionally mean. They may even feel they are complimenting me. But when pride leads someone to tell you how wonderful you are and how superior you are to them, it becomes hard to feel like you can be that person. It becomes easy to believe that to be the amazing person you are, hurts another person in some way and that being so beautiful, smart, vivacious, kind, or outgoing is a bad thing. So, how do we combat these lies we tell ourselves? In the least clique way possible, I believe it comes down to loving people. Not just saying that we do, but truly finding ways to love everyone even those who hurt us the most. I am learning to do this with people that have caused me great pain. This week I have been thinking about how to love my family members, friends, and teachers who have wronged me. But most importantly, I am trying to learn to love the person who has probably told me the most lies and caused me the most pain… myself. I am the one who looked in that mirror years ago and thought about choosing the disease, I am the one who tells myself I am unworthy of other’s affection or of joy, I am the one struggles to let go of poisonous grudges.

When I speak of this love, I am not talking about being okay with who I am or accepting my interests. I am talking about deep love. Love requires sacrifice. As I learn to love myself, I am looking for ways to sacrifice parts of that self to my Heavenly Father. Love requires time. I am spending more time not just indulging in mindless pursuits, but spending time do things with myself, things that make me feel alive. Love requires change and growth. I am looking for ways to grow and expand myself, learning more about who I am. Lastly, love requires that we be stern and straightforward, but it also means that afterwards, we come back with an increase in our love. There are many things I am working on, necessary things, but as I work on them, I am trying to approach myself more charitably, with greater respect, and forgiveness for myself.

My dear friends, I urge each of us to find this greater love within ourselves. To view ourselves the way our friends and family do, and most importantly our God does. We are beloved and blessed. Just as the disease comes in small choices, confidence is not a choice, it’s several small choices throughout our lives to do better, to be better, and accept that that is all we can do. Through this we will love ourselves more and that helps us become more secure in who we are. Though we all fall prey to this illness in one way or another, we are all able to choose to rise once again, finding love and confidence as we find ourselves.