It’s been a few years since I blogged full time for Illest Optimist. Why am I coming back? Why did I dip?
For a long time I lived my life very openly. I communicated the vast majority of my existence into a blog that I hoped would have an effect on even one single person. My desire was to protect my fellow chronic disease bro’s and betches from the hell that I went through. I believed that if I were to live my life out-loud, others could learn from my mistakes, save time finding a proper diagnosis, recalibrate their treatment, escape financial missteps, and protect themselves from the daily torture that is the hell hole of long-term sickness.
I wrote about the physical pain in detail, typing rapidly as the fire-like searing venom radiated my body. I spoke to the emotional rape that it took on my soul, as I succumbed to a world that entailed looking up at a ceiling for years, unable to step outside into an opportunistic future. I took painful to view videos of myself crying in exasperation, praying to God, pleading for anyone to save me from the torment I couldn’t survive any longer.
I did this because I thought I was going to make a difference in someone’s life. I believed that my story mattered. Maybe my voice could have an impact.
But something extraordinary happened after 2 years of misdiagnosis, 1 year of treatment, another 2 fighting for continuous ‘good days’ – all the while blogging my optimistic heart out. I became healthy.
At that point I no longer found it fun to write about myself. The process of bearing my life for all to view seemed far too intimate. Every time I sat down to articulate anything ‘real’ it felt as if I was continuously ripping open a wound, then wondering why it wouldn’t seem to heal on it’s own.
It’s almost as if presenting my heart on a stage for so long depleted my confidence and drained the altruistic desire to make my mark on this world.
So I shut down the blog, tried to erase any memory of the disease that almost drowned me, and attempted to live a normal and healthy life.
But bottling things up never works. Pretending as if the past simply vanished, didn’t make my future any easier. Instead, it left me as a sort of tortured soul who had an overwhelming fear that the disease that overtook my life for years would come back with a vengeance, destroying every beautiful miracle that was now in existence.
Then something mind-blowing happened that changed this destructive and disparaging thought pattern. I met someone who inspired me to once again share my story, knowledge, and passion. This person made me feel proud of my past, and exceptionally excited for a future that entails showing others that chronic disease doesn’t have to be long term and a destroyer of dreams. That it can turn a roadblock to a wakeup call. A nightmare to a blessing. A seemingly endless thunderstorm of a life, to an era of dancing.
So here I shall stand, exposing myself once more. I vow to continue to share my story, create delicious and easy to make recipes that others can draw inspiration from, and teach anyone who will listen how to live a natural plant-based life.
As I set my shaking hands on my computer keys, I pray that I can make my way back into a society of badass fighters who once welcomed me with open arms.