Mermaid Soul

When I close my eyes, I go to the peaceful, beautiful underwater world at the lake. It’s dark and mysterious, the lake floor just deep muck squishing between my toes as I push off to surface like a dolphin, emerging just to take a breath before going back down, being engulfed by the water. You can hear the motor of boats before you see them, it is a soft, rhythmic stutter that comes and goes with the small waves. I could swim like that all day, every day and never be tired of it.

And then I’m in the clear, pure water in the rivers I swam in as a child, always searching for treasures in the slippery rocks under my feet, daring to go a bit farther, a bit deeper, conquering the current, being one with the water. There’s moss beneath my feet, the rocks I hit with my knees, and the little pinchers of crayfish. I find the deepest part and disappear for as long as my lungs will let me, sometimes swimming away and seeing if my family noticed how long I was gone, if they worried at all, other times just sinking into the water and just being one with it, listening, feeling the cold water and the hot sun, washing my problems away, down the river they go, I am at peace.

Chlorine. Salt. Sweat. The pool, the water I spent so much time in, practicing my strokes, competing, loving and hating it at the same time. I always seemed to tire before others, my heart rate was always higher, and even when I took my inhaler, I couldn’t breathe, but still, it was my passion. Summer mornings diving into the cold, cold pool, a shocking wake up call for swim team practice, back and forth, often toe to finger close to the person before me, the person behind me. When swimming for fun, not practicing, I will disappear under the water, swimming without coming up to take a breath, going deeper and deeper, testing out my lungs, happy and at ease.

One day I’m going to be free of central lines and feeding tubes and I’m going back to the water. I’ll live on the lake, I’ll travel and see the incredible beauty of the underwater world through my own eyes, scuba diving, snorkeling, swimming with dolphins, maybe hippos too – just no snakes. ☺ I can’t wait to return to my life as a mermaid, feeling the water, seeing the beauty, feeling no pain, just peace and happiness, such simple things.

These memories are worth gold, they’re what I need to have faith and they inspire me to make my dreams come back to reality. A piece of my soul belongs in the water, the thought of return comforts me when I need an escape, being my happy place when I need to disappear, and gives me hope and drive to find my way through my trials and back to my underwater world.

Willfully Determined

Yesterday I pushed myself to do more and to do different. I decided to be a 22 year old for a few hours, I just ignored the fatigue, took the pain meds, and went to back to back movies (7-11:30pm) with my sister, who didn’t think I could stay out late anymore. It was a gift to both of us to be able to spend that time together, just enjoying doing something that was so out of the norm.

Usually I sleep through 60-80% of movies anywhere we watch them, our basement, my room, the movie theater, other peoples houses… But last night I worked hard to stay awake, and I did a stellar job. My POTS/dysautonomia leaves my body unable to pump blood to my brain when I sit down for too long, so I fall asleep or pass out even if I’m loving a movie or having a great conversation with someone; but usually, if I move around or take a walk I start to feel much more human again and stay awake for at least 10-20 minutes 😉

My family asked me if I really had energy for this, and here is what I told them,

“No, I don’t have the energy, but this isn’t about energy.  This is about desire and determination.”

Sometimes I have to accept my symptoms, accept my situation, and make a choice to push past all of the exhaustion, pain, nausea, and sensitivities so that I can remind myself and those around me that I’m still me, and that there are still things out there, outside of my “safe zone” (aka my house and my room). Watching the world go on without you can be a very strange feeling, it’s like watching from an outside view, looking down on the life I thought would be mine and watching others continue on without me. The world doesn’t wait for anyone.

Recently I’ve been hearing a lot of “nothings” from doctors; some literally don’t have anything to say, don’t answer emails or calls or anything, others telling me they can’t take on my case or I’ve exhausted the options they can offer. It’s a lot of “keep you comfortable” and “manage symptoms.”

After so much of the same, I’m so tired of doctors and meds and tests or treatments that no one actually thinks will work. I want to live. I want to experience my youth, I want to really feel alive and I want to cross items off of my bucket list.

I want to travel and see incredible sites and take countless photos. I hope to visit all of the girls who I’ve met online, the ones who have helped me through these years of illness, and I want to meet new people, and fall in love. I want to get rid of these tubes so I can swim with dolphins and scuba dive, get as close to my mermaid dream as possible.

I have a lot of goals, and I may never accomplish all of them, but they make for some happy thinking & I never pass that up. 🙂