The Story My Body Tells: Hopelessness and Resilience
A close up of a clothed arm extending up past the surface of churning water. The hand is wide spread and reaching. the water is dark and there are clouds and mountains in the background.
By. Hannah Lacy
Hopelessness… The weight I feel in my body and my heart when another day has gone by with all the symptoms of various “invisible” illnesses.
It’s the term they came up with for autoimmune diseases. The one where your body is essentially attacking itself on the inside. Where valuable essential organs don’t function the way they need too. Where hormones, energy levels, mood swings, and weight fluctuate. And yet, function you must, with everything else “fluctuating”. On the outside, some may call it “laziness”. The way you move slowly, fighting with all you have just to do the normal and the ordinary daily tasks of life.
I fight to not be lost in the dysfunction of my body. I fight to not be defined by all the battles my body has fought. To not see them all as “lost” because I am still here. I fight to be more than words whispered in my ear over the past few years.
Cancer.
Surgery.
”Accidentally” removed parathyroid.
IBS- wait IBD.
Blood clot.
Colitis.
Anaphylactic reaction.
PCOS.
I fight to be more than an endocrine system functioning without its key piece- a thyroid. I fight to be more than the nausea, fatigue, cramps and pain that come with an under-functioning digestive system. More than depilating episodes that arise no matter what diet protocol I try to follow. I fight to be more than a hormonal disorder that amplifies the opposite of all we are told women should be: thin and hairless and feminine.
All these invisible illnesses bounce off of each other… sleeplessness, exhaustion fatigue, brain fog, joint pain, muscle aches, weight gain. Just to name a few.
You’d be hard pressed to pick out one of us with an autoimmune disease. We smile, stand tall, parent, work, go to school, etc. just like the rest. 50 Million Americans have a chronic autoimmune condition. Most of us are fighting quietly. We don’t want a disease to take the center stage or spotlight in our lives. And it feels to talk about the weaknesses our body has would rob us of the strength we face our lives with.
These battles may take several chapters to tell, but they are not the only stories my body tells.
Hopelessness is a weight I fight to not carry, but resilience is coursing through my veins like blood. Resilience can only come by having to cope- despite facing barriers with limited resources. By wanting something so bad, you overcome obstacles to get it.
My body doesn’t yet have all the strength I need. But I have resilience. Emotional strength despite the specialist appointments., CT scans, biopsy’s, prescriptions, Emergency room trips, and hospital bills.
Some other words I whisper to myself as I fight an “invisible” battle.
Mother.
Writer.
WOMAN.
Wife.
Daughter.
Friend.
Student.
Whispering the other words does not negate the others. I’ve fought hard to not be that “sick person” or “that person complaining all the time about how bad they feel,” which are stereotypes that every person with an autoimmune disease faces. I can acknowledge my body and its battles and not hide them, while not letting them take up all the space and room on the center stage of my life.
I hope less of us fight “quietly” so that more of us won’t feel so alone.
There is grace and there is wreckage.
There is loss and hope.
This body and story is complex.
And neither deserve to be hidden away.
I’m standing in the light, often battling hopelessness… but also standing with resilience.
Hannah sits, with her face resting in her hand, wearing a half smile, denim long sleeve shirt, and brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Hannah Lacy is a mother, writer, wife and student who loves reading and sharing stories. She is passionate about honest womanhood, motherhood and creativity, and believes in wild grace. She believes in sharing struggles and beauty and that one doesn't cancel the other. You can find her on Instagram: @theblessedlittlelife