The Next Time You See Me, I Might Look Different

The pandemic afforded me the space to privately figure out how to exist with the changes in my body.

I alluded to the fact that my health during 2020 and 2021 deteriorated further in blog posts of yore, but I don’t really feel like discussing it beyond that right now (and I don’t need to). I have discussed my journey with OCD and endometriosis in the past, and it opened me up to a sort of vulnerability I could not have prepared for. What I feel comfortable saying publicly at this time is that I have a new diagnosis that is an umbrella, with others underneath (who knew OCD and endometriosis could be co-morbidities??). I also am awaiting other diagnoses and am in the process of getting information, but it takes time and isn’t easy.

Me with one of my canes

Somedays I can ski, swim, dance, garden, and more. Other days I can barely walk. This is my reality. My reality might also change – I just don’t know.

During the pandemic, as my health deteriorated with no end in sight, I was so afraid and scared. We were all holed up in our houses in private, but I felt especially alienated. The fact that we were all not seeing much of each other meant I could privately go about my life seeing multiple doctors weekly and testing my various mobility aids in anonymity, away from family, friends, and strangers asking the dreaded “what’s wrong” or “what’s going on?”.

However, now that the world is opening up little by little, I have books coming out, events to attend, and a book launch coming up (June 28th, 2022 at 6:30pm)… my health problems still exist consistent through all of this. My health, just like the world around me, does not exist in a binary. I’m not simply “sick” or “not sick”, “abled” or “disabled”, “able to walk” or “unable to walk”. I exist somewhere in the grey area, outside of the binaries, in a space that is awkward and uncomfortable with no crystal clear answers. A space that I am unprepared to explain and, yet, also feel insecure not explaining at all.

So, somedays I use mobility aids, and other days I feel pretty good so I don’t.

This is my life and I am learning to find balance and comfort in it.


3 Replies to “The Next Time You See Me, I Might Look Different”

  1. amy says:

    one step at a time, one diagnosis on top of another. love you.

  2. Jan says:

    We love you just the way you are! Love you to pieces!

  3. Anonymous says:

    Thank you for this personal update. Wishing you all the strength and peace, and congrats on your continued success!!!

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