Lyme Warriors

The Brave

Today someone I don’t know asked me how I was teaching yoga, with Lyme?


They asked how I was functioning, at all with Lyme?


My immediate response was that I’m not really, it isn’t taking off, I’m a bit shit, look for someone else who’s really healed, really made it, really succeeded.


They said, I am.


Obviously, I said oooh who? Thinking I should get on that and take some serious notes.


They said, you, you fucking idiot! Which made me laugh and cry at the same time.


You see, when I look in the mirror, I don’t see anything other than a fuck up.

I see the flaws that have been repeatedly and consistently pointed out, since I got that tick bite and lost my power, my voice and me - all in the space of a week.


I see and feel all the inadequacies that the various doctors have lighted upon as a cause of my illness.


My weak, silly girly voice. My propensity to burst into tears for no reason (being unable to stand up and feeling like I might die not being sufficient). My hair colour (natural blondes are always a problem, apparently). My sex (women, you know, always have been prone to hysteria).


My lack of intelligence (neurological damage from the Lyme).


My being too intelligent (stop thinking about it all and it’ll go away).


My type A personality (knock it the fuck off and stop fucking researching shit you annoying bastard).


My lackluster personality (couldn’t you try harder?).


My being too fat (toxins, swelling and god knows what else because I couldn’t keep food down so it wasn’t that).


My being too thin (E.coli).


Too short (short people will do anything to get attention).


Too emotional (fucking bite me).


Too male (yep, no idea).


Too weak (to punch you, unfortunately, yes).


When I look at what I’ve achieved versus what I hoped to achieve, I see what the world has taught me to see.


A failure.


A limited person with a limited future in a limited body.


I am dis abled by Lyme. And constantly told that Lyme doesn’t not exist.


I fall into the no man’s land of chronic ill health. The unrecognised place that is laced with barbed wire, noxious gases, mines and stray bullets.


Every day is a battle, and every battle is simultaneously familiar and dissonantly varying.

I know I’m not alone in this battle…


So this is for all of you facing the same endless shit today that you faced yesterday, and all the days before. The kind of shit that the muggles just can’t comprehend.


I don’t mean to belittle, devalue or in any way dismiss the struggles that those blessed with health have endured during lock-down.


I certainly am not gas-lighting anyone who has had to live in extreme poverty or within an abusive, challenging or demoralising situation.


Not at all. I have lived in those situations myself. They fucking suck.


I understand that it’s been tough, I really do.


But what I will say to all those facing long term ill health (mental, physical, emotional, hormonal) - you know the kind that hasn’t fucked off no matter what you’ve done or tried, the kind where you’ve had to watch every single bloody person in your life move on, move up, marry, holiday, get promoted, find adventures, crash burn and start all over again - is my god, you’re fucking awesome.


The strength of you!


The tenacity!


You’ve been doing this - can’t have what you want, need, would love to have - for fucking ever!


Awesome.


And, you’ve been doing it without support, in the main.


Often without love, kindness, a place to live that is your own, a doctor who understands, friends who lend an ear, family who don’t groan or roll their eyes when you mention why you’ll be missing yet another event.


So, this is an almighty hats off to all the Lyme warriors, the wellness warriors, the fighters, the brave, the strong, the unrecognised.


Awesome.


God damn fucking awesome.

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