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What if we stopped glorifying the hustle? What if we instead started glorifying things like taking care of yourself, writing your sister a letter to make her smile, re-reading your favorite Harry Potter book in the sunshine, or just making it through the day?
My friends and family prove to me every day that even if not everybody “gets it,” I am at the very least blessed with people who care enough to try.
We only feel like we’re missing out because we subscribe to some random belief that there’s a certain set of experiences we should be having and that if we aren’t having them, we’re somehow doing life wrong.
Sure, promotions and babies are great–– but if you live your whole life seeking big things to sustain your happiness, it will probably continue to elude you.
If I have to be sick, the least I can do is take as many positives from that as possible, and provide as much support to others as I can.
Reading not only gives me an escape and a way to spend my sick time–– it makes me better able to express myself.
It was far too hard with my rising anxiety to pretend to be the most outgoing one in the room all the time.
But how do you redefine normal? Normal for me has been a steady homeostasis of stomach aches and discomfort.
I always thought it was kind of silly when someone said they were “raising awareness” about a cause. What do you mean? If we say it out loud enough it’ll be cured?
When the Prednisone, over time, started to grow my large face even bigger like some kind of sad version of the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka, I tried not to let it bother me.
Do what you can to make yourself feel happy and healthy in the places you spend the most time, and don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it
I firmly believe “it could be worse” is a lazy thing to say–– you’re not empathizing, you’re just making the person feel guiltier for the emotions they’re experiencing.
Six-year-old me was a tiny capitalist dictator. While normal little girls wanted to be Cinderella or a doctor or something, I wanted to be Oprah Winfrey.
“Sick people” come in all shapes, sizes, ages, and ability levels. They look just like you–– they just also happen to have a slightly overrated superpower.
Un-fun fact: a lot of people who suffer from chronic illness also struggle with depression and anxiety.
Suffice it to say I can eat what my gut decides it can tolerate–– and it’s being pretty picky and changing its mind more than a college freshman deciding on a major.
