Letter to an Old Friend

I know you probably became a different person.

Sheralee, Summer and Elsa, 2008

I guess we all grow up eventually. But I still remember the teenage Sheralee.

How you'd always glomp me when you saw me, or sometimes just randomly.

How you'd ask me to dance with you. Even if I didn't always feel like it, it was easier to just dance than to argue with you. So I became "the crazy dancer."

How you'd try to poke my nose and I'd slap your hand.

That night in West Virginia when I walked off to look at the "moon," which ended up being a light post, and you called me Moth ever since.

The time at 217 when we were sitting in the grass, talking about our dream of becoming writers when we grew up. You said you wanted to be a freelance writer. I didn't want you to think I was stupid, so I just pretended to know what "freelance" meant.

The time at 217 when we were talking about our insecurities. I was being intentionally vague and said I was insecure about "being different." You were saying how it's a good thing to be different because the people who are different are the ones who make an impact and change the world. Even though I was referring more to being self-conscious about my physical appearance, I appreciated your insight.

That time you noticed I was sad and you were there for me when so many hard things happened at once.

Sometimes I knew something was bothering you, but I didn't know what to say or how to help. I wanted to be there for you, but it was hard when I was dealing with my own stuff. And I'm sorry if I wasn't always as good of a friend as I could have been.

One of the last times we talked on Facebook was right before you started college. I remember you saying, "I iz going 2 Hollins!!!"

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. We were supposed to grow up and grow old and become writers. I wanted to see your writing get published. Who knows--maybe someday that will still happen.

You left a hole, and I doubt you would have left if you knew how big it was and how many people loved you.

I don't know the details of what you were going through, and I can't pretend to understand how much pain you felt. I will agree with a friend who once told me, "Depression is a bitch." I have been in the place where it seemed like my only options were to die or to be miserable for the rest of my life.

As cliche as it may be to say, I know I'll see you again someday. I can see you crazy-dancing now, maybe in a colorful African dress like the one you borrowed from Allison at the 217 girls night.

As you said in a note you wrote me in 2008, "Love you very much! And God loves you 1,000,000,000 etc. times more!" <3

Me, Sheralee and Elsa, 2008, photo credit: Sarah Westman

Thankful for Life

If you were to ask me what I'm thankful for, I would probably tell you that I'm thankful for my family, my dog and my job. And all of that is true. But if I were to really be honest, what comes to mind is simply, "I'm thankful for life." There are so many times--even just over the past several years--that I could have died and didn't.

In the summer of 2011 I was trying to train for a sprint triathlon. (I eventually gave up on that idea because I'm so bad at swimming--and not great at running either!) I was trying to beat my previous times biking on the Huckleberry Trail, but I had left late and it didn't look like I'd be able to make it home before dark. My dad called and told me to call him when I made it to the mall and he would pick me up so that I wouldn't have to cross Pepper's Ferry Rd in the dark. (This was before they built the pedestrian bridge and also before I had bike lights.) When I got to the mall I didn't call my dad and decided to go ahead and bike all the way home because I wanted to know my time for biking that distance. When I got to Pepper's Ferry I looked both ways and was about to run across, and I heard this voice in my head saying, "Look again." I looked to my left and right there was a gray car driving with its lights off! That scared me a bit, but I'm embarrassed to say I still crossed the road a minute later and biked the rest of the way home. My parents were obviously mad that I biked home without calling them!  

There was the time in 2012 that I cut myself badly and my arm wouldn't stop bleeding for a couple hours. I was exhausted, so I went to bed and hoped I'd wake up in the morning.

There are all the times my depression tried to kill me--really, too many times to keep track of. I wrote this passage in my journal during a hard time last October that I think pretty accurately describes how I was feeling.

"I have been forgotten like one who is dead; I have become like a broken vessel. For I hear the whispering of many--terror on every side!--as they scheme together against me, as they plot to take my life. But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, 'You are my God.' My times are in your hand; rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from my persecutors!" Psalm 31:12-15

In 2015 I got Cdiff, a bacterial infection that a lot of people die from. I couldn't eat most foods because they caused internal bleeding. Then I had an allergic reaction to the antibiotic and was having trouble breathing. I remember my dad telling me, "You're stuck between a rock and a hard place because you could die from not being able to breathe, but [if you stop the antibiotic] the infection could also kill you." I ended up switching to an antibiotic that I've heard kills MRSA, and it took two rounds of that to get rid of the infection.

Some people think that 26 is really young, and in a sense I guess it is. But I feel fortunate to have lived this long when I might not have. In the past three years I've had four friends (technically two of them were more of acquaintances) pass away, and they were all in their early to mid-twenties. A lot of people live like they're immortal, and I guess there can be benefits to that. It can be fun having adventures and taking risks. And when you assume you'll live a long time, you're more likely to plan for the future. But I've seen how fragile my life and the lives of others can be, and I don't want to take life for granted.

Is Life Supposed to be Fair?

When kids are young, parents tell them, "Share your toys." "Be fair." "Play by the rules." Teachers tell kids, "Don't cut in line." Children are quick to complain and tattle if someone cheats in a game or doesn't wait their turn. It is ingrained in us that life should be fair.

At some point, maybe when we're a teenager, something doesn't go the way we think it should. Maybe we don't get what we think we deserve, and we complain that it's not fair. Our sense of fairness may be very subjective, but it's there nonetheless. Someone will inevitably respond, "Well, nobody ever said life was fair." But if life wasn't meant to be fair, why do we teach fairness to children? Why do we have such a deep desire for fairness in our own lives?

What happens when the sense of unfairness is about a deeper issue?

Why do some people have good health that they may take for granted, while other people have serious health problems for their entire life?

Why does one person get cancer and another person doesn't?

Why do some people question and struggle with their sexual identity and other people have always known their orientation and never give it a second thought?

Why do certain addictive behaviors enslave some people while they don't appeal to others?

Why does one person struggle with depression for years and is healed, while another person struggles and dies from suicide?

Why does God heal some people and not others?

Why do some people ask for help and get it, while other people are ignored or rejected?

I believe that God actually built into us this desire for fairness. He created a perfect world, but when people sinned at the Fall, everything got messed up. (Genesis 3)

The unfairness sucks and it hurts and I hate it. But the hope is that it won't last forever. Someday there will be a perfect world where everything is made right. But right now we're stuck in the in-between. Seeing how things should be, and they're so far from that. And so we wait and seek fairness and justice where we can. Things will never be perfect on this side of heaven, but maybe they can be a little bit better.

Perspectives on my Life

Sometimes I wish I could just be normal. I get discouraged that I'm not working a full-time job, living out my dreams, traveling the world, that I don't have a husband/boyfriend. It is so easy to compare myself to others and wonder why I can't be like them or have their life. But recently I've realized, considering everything I have to deal with, I am really doing well. I have about 5 mental illnesses (I say "about" because one of them has not been officially diagnosed) and about 5 physical health conditions. But I still work part-time and have somewhat of a social life. I haven't given up! I can't do a lot of things that the average person can do, but the average person doesn't have to deal with so many illnesses at once. (This is not to minimize anything that anyone's going through. I know that everyone has their own struggles to deal with.) My life isn't going exactly how I'd like it to go, but it could be a lot worse. I think sometimes the people that the world considers unsuccessful are the people who are fighting the hardest and dealing with the toughest things. It just goes unnoticed.

What I mean when I say I'm tired (And other updates on my health)

Anyone who has known me for a while knows I love being outside, especially hiking and riding my bike. I used to go on 15-mile bike rides pretty regularly, and occassionally 20-mile rides. But that all changed when I got Cdiff in the spring of 2015. (Cdiff is a bacterial/intestinal infection. I talk about it more in this blog post.) The Cdiff was gone after a few months, but it took all my engergy with it. I was officially diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome just a few weeks ago, but I'm pretty sure I've had it for a couple years.

Sometimes I'll tell someone I'm tired and they'll reply with "I am too." I know they are just trying to be understanding, but sometimes this frustrates me because I feel like they don't really understand what I mean, and I don't always have time to explain myself. So here are a couple of examples . . .

The other day I got up for work, and I could not get myself to wake up. But I got up and ate breakfast. Still tired. Took a shower. Still tired. Had caffeinated tea. Still tired. But I went to work. Had lunch. Still tired. Took a walk. Still tired. I finally had to leave work an hour early because I was too tired to concentrate on my work. Fortunately, I normally make it through a 20-hour work week, but that is pushing myself.

On Saturday I wanted to ride my bike in the afternoon and hang out with friends in the evening. I slept 12 hours the night before and was feeling pretty awake when I finally got up. I took a shower, and it made my arms so tired and weak that I had to take a short nap afterwards. Then I went on a half-mile bike ride around the neighborhood. When I got back I realized I was shaking. I used to get like that after 15-mile rides! So I took another nap and then hung out with friends in the evening. So I was able to do everything I wanted to do, it just took a lot of resting and saving up my energy.

I know that many people who have Chronic Fatigue and other illnesses have much worse fatigue than I do. Some people are bedridden and can't work at all. So the point of this post is not to say, "Look how bad I have it." I just want to point out that being tired can mean totally different things to different people. And Cdiff can totally mess up your health and take a long time to recover from.

But some good news--my stomach has been doing better lately, so I am finally able to eat some more normal foods!