TWO thousand sixteen was really not my year for much of anything.
I may or may not have some kind of problem with seizures, but I’m too afraid to have it worked up. I may or may not have had another little one a month or so ago. That, or I simply passed out for no discernible reason.
I was diagnosed with diabetes. If someone asked me for my idea of the last thing in the world I’d ever have, it would be diabetes. To say I was shocked, and a bit frightened, would be an understatement. And, as if to smack me in the face a second time, I also have a certain GI issue that whittles my “diabetic” diet down to almost nil.
Instead of that magical, universal, existential view of life that breathed a poetic sense of creativity into my soul that poured out of me and onto pages and pages of thoughts molded into beautiful turns of phrase, I’ve just been paralyzed.
Instead, my thoughts linger on the arbitrary number 40. The reminder that life is too short to be afraid of what is going on inside my body, but that what is going on inside my body might make my life even shorter.
I am so much more than this. There are so many more lives I have left to live. I have so much more left to give. I don’t want to leave this world forgotten. I don’t want to leave it with only a handful of people who know what I was capable of but are left disappointed because they have nothing to remember me by.
I don’t want to leave without inspiring someone to create something they never thought they could, or love with unrestrained passion, or find their Duchenne smile and never let it go, or step off their prescribed path to travel the unmapped paths they never knew existed.
There is a Me I’ve lost somewhere. A Me with no boundaries. A Me who found talents I never knew I had. A Me with tangible thoughts and ideas that people held in their hands with awe. A Me who loved myself without pretense, the kind of love that shone a light in the darkness, a light that drew others into it who needed me as much as I needed them. A Me who gave as much as I took. A Me who made others feel as though they weren’t alone in this world. A Me who was so full that she never asked for more than what others were able to give.
There is a way to find her again. I’ll figure it out.