Hey friends! I definitely fell off the radar again, between moving into my new apartment and breaking my collar bone and turning 21, I’ve been a little busy. BUT! I have a ton of new things that I’ve been working on, and super cool opportunities coming up that I literally can not wait to share with you.
But today I’m a little broken hearted.
This morning I had the chance to buy really cheap tickets to tomorrow nights Ed Sheeran concert. I would get to go with a friend that I love and it would have definitely been a night to remember. I’ve been listening to the Divide album on repeat for MONTHS and it’s one of the only secular albums that I know every lyric to.
But, I can’t go. Why? Because I’m a sick kid.
The same reason that I can’t go to parties, movies, conventions, or even church some weeks.
I knew that I wouldn’t be able to go. I knew that the lights would stimulate my broken brain too much, the sound would hurt my bones to the core, and the crowd would terrify me to no end. I knew I wouldn’t be able to bring my service dog to help with my symptoms, and I knew that any medication I took would put me to sleep before we even arrived at the arena.
And yet, I still did everything I could to make it work. I could picture the perfect night that I wanted. The fun we would have, the memories we would make. I was excited and the anticipation of going was nearly unbearable.
Once I made the realization that I would have to say no, I was devastated. I’ve had to say “no” way more often in my life than I’ve been able to say “yes.” I’ve missed so many birthday parties, Six Flags days, concerts and even camps and retreats because my body forced me to say “no.” I’ve always felt deprived and isolated and less-than because of that.
My first question today was why did I get so excited when I knew the answer was going to be no? I knew this was an unrealistic situation, so why did I even bother entertaining the idea?
After being sad for a solid 4 hours, I realized that the entire reason I experience disappointment is because I have hope. If I didn’t have hope, there’d be no reason to ever get disappointed. For nearly an hour today, I had SO much hope in going to the concert that I completely forgot my limitations and pain. I have the hope of one day living a normal and healthy life (whatever that may look like), so therefore it’s devastating when I am reminded of my current inabilities and differences. That’s not to say that my hope is lost, because it definitely isn’t. It just means my present reality has to be altered a little bit.
So at the end of the day, I’m feeling a whole lot of gratitude for my heart’s ability to find hope amidst devastation. I’m thankful for that hour of extreme anticipation and hope this morning that allowed me to completely forget the realities that I’m facing currently. I’m comforted in knowing that my hope has not been lost, and that someday I will get to have that perfect and healthy body- even if that might not be here on Earth.
With all the love,