Freedom Lies in the Balance

Navigating the joys and sorrows of life

Miracle-fizz, with a lemon-lime twist

Hello friends,

I’m writing this letter today while downing an Alka-Seltzer. It is not—as some of my non-American friends believed—yet another brand of seltzer water. It’s an antacid that comes in the form of two white tablets. You drop the tablets into a glass of water and watch them fizz away into nothingness. Then you down the resulting solution and burp a couple of times while waiting for your heartburn to disappear.

I don’t typically have heartburn (or any of the other myriad digestive issues I’ve been dealing with lately), but it’s plagued me these past few weeks as I’ve exhausted the last of my cannabis supply. One of the “perks” of having multiple sclerosis is being eligible for a medical marijuana card. Unfortunately, a scheduling mishap prevented me from re-certifying that card in a timely manner. And, because I am a square, I only buy my weed from the dispensary. So here I am, cannabis-less. As such, my leg aches, my fatigue smothers, and my guts grumble their dissatisfaction. Thus the Alka-Seltzer.

None of that is very interesting in and of itself, but I brought it up to illustrate that MS sucks, plain and simple. It’s a terrible disease, and I can’t wait for the day we find a cure. In recent years, there’s been a trend of wearing disabilities as a badge of honor. Frankly, this is stupid. Living with MS has taught me a lot, but I would rid myself of this burden in a heartbeat if I could. I’d snap my fingers and watch healthy brain tissue eat those dead, scarred masses for a change. I’d fling the weighted blanket of fatigue from my shoulders and frolic on two perfectly functioning legs. I’d kill to feel like a human again instead of the seltzer-guzzling zombie I’ve become.

Don’t misunderstand me—I don’t believe I’m lesser than those of you with perfect health. But I don’t believe I’m better than you, either, and I think it’s time we stop glorifying disabilities. Ill health is not something to aspire to. On the other side of that coin, healthy people also deal with plenty of struggles. All of us around the world face adversity in one way or another. We should celebrate how we overcome those hardships rather than the hardships themselves.

Despite the tone of this letter, I feel happier and more at peace now than at any other point in my life. But I could only find that joy after being brought so low. I thought surrounding myself with other people who were ill would offer me a sense of comfort. In truth, all it gave me were excuses not to be happy. When you surround yourself with people comparing traumas, it becomes nearly impossible to pull yourself from the muck.

This isn’t a call for endless or unfounded optimism. Sometimes life is shit, and all you can do is cry. But when someone reaches out a hand to coax you out of your misery, take it. Let yourself be guided back to the light. The darkness can be comfortable, I know. That cold and unfeeling embrace becomes a safe haven, a validation of your sorrow. But the bad times are no more permanent than the good ones. Each day transitions from light to dark and back again. True freedom lies in the balance, where you’re no longer dependent on one feeling or another. MS is terrible, but it has also been a gift. I’d cast it aside immediately if given a chance, but I’m also grateful for the wisdom it’s given me. I am not a victim, but neither am I a conqueror. I am simply me, trying to live the best life I can. I hope you’re doing the same.

I’d love if you commented with the thing giving you grief right now, whatever it is. The small things can be just as distracting as the big things. No need to feel embarrassed or ashamed. You might be surprised by what resonates with people. And if you see someone experiencing a heartache you’ve dealt with, let them know. You don’t have to offer advice if you don’t want. Sometimes it’s just nice to know that people understand you.

Until next time,
Yardena

Weekend Potpourri

• I’m learning to sew on a machine for the first time, and this course has helped me tackle the intimidating nature of the sewing machine itself

• I’m really enjoying Rebecca Jones’s newsletter, Between. Her daily journal entries, delivered once a week, add up to a beautiful life lived well.

• This park in Australia proves that common species can be just as important to rewinding projects as endangered ones.

• I loved this beautiful piece about the crows of Karachi.