Don't Forget to Remember

I almost forgot.

I almost forgot what it was like to be capable and healthy.

The onset of my illness seemed to develop overnight. I did not know, in one moment of not being able to stand, the abilities I would lose over the next couple of years. I didn't know that I would quit pursuing my education, that I wouldn't be able to cook for my family, or keep a tidy, presentable home. I was unaware of how many friends I would lose, or how my family would doubt, criticize, and dismiss me. I didn't know at the time how much loss is entangled with losing your health at 24 years old. When you cannot sit up and you cannot stand, how are you supposed to thrive?

I sat with my losses and nurtured my soul. I mourned for the things that no longer suited my needs. My time and energy was devoted to physical therapy two to three times a week for two straight years. I drifted away from unhealthy relationships, sat down in public places when necessary, and returned to work with a reclining office chair for emergencies. It took over a year, but I finally learned to trust my body. I gave it rest, and persistently gave it hell. 

As time passed, I again found myself forgetting - only this time I was forgetting what it was like to be sick. 

I learned to hardly notice the pounding in my chest, the clammy hands, the hot feeling that consumes me right before losing consciousness. The fogginess that used to convince me I was in a dream only occurs as a warning now, a sign of my plummeting blood pressure. I flex my legs constantly, a reminder to not let my blood pool. I crawled, I stood, I took baby steps, and what a blessing it was, I learned how to thrive. 

Over the course of four years I lost my strength, my ability, some hopes and some dreams. I held myself accountable for many of those losses and allowed myself to grow anyway. But for the sake of growth and resilience, I hope I never forget again. 

Forgetting these things has brought forth a heaviness in me that I pray to remember always. When you forget the difficult times it might seem like a blessing, but when the sick days roll around, you'll reach for anything to simply ground you. You'll find the importance in remembering who you are, what you've been through, and who you've yet to become.  

And so I'll remember not to forget that life carries us in waves. I'll remember not to forget the days I could hardly walk, and I'll bask in the memories of training my body to walk a mile each day. 

The bad days will surely come, but there's always a chance tomorrow may be brighter. When the difficult days drown my soul with sorrow, I will remember how I dug my way up from the trenches before. I will re-evaluate, readjust, make a plan, and promise I'll try. I will remember to trust the body that failed me, and trust the strength I have to persist again.

I almost forgot time and time again, but from here on out I'll remember.

 I'll remember, I'll remember, I'll remember.