I want.

What is normal? I don’t know, but I know that I want it. A normal, healthy body. A normal, healthy relationship with my family. A normal, white-washed holiday celebration that lives up to its cheesy montage predecessors.

“Its always something with you.” Apparently it is not given to me to be normal, apparently there will always be something in my way. Whether its my own self, my debts and health problems, my families or just the everyday little defeats that pepper my life.

I want to be able to turn off the hyper-analytic, self-doubtful voice in my head reminding me of all the cards stacking against me. I want to be able to close my eyes and daydream, not try to spread a dollar to cover 3 bills. I want to be able to share a holiday with all my family, not just broken pretenders on a Christmas Card. I want to be held and coddled, to be cared for and seen as more than just a patient. I want people to realize that although my body is breaking, my mind still works.

I want there to be a big neon sign over my head that says “Warning: Lyme disease” so that when my world stops, the rest of Planet Earth can’t ignore it or pretend its not there. So that when I am in any type of crowd, ricocheting around like a pinball, I won’t be sore for days later. I want to be able to reach over my shoulder and unbuckle my seatbelt without wincing. I want to exit the vicious spiral of: medical bills for a treatment that isn’t working, so I can again hold a job to pay said bills and their unending peers.

I want people to stop telling me they understand. That I’m still young and have the world ahead of me. I want people to stop, just stop. I want to be able to vent all my rage and frustration and confusion, all the hate I have for this bitter cage of a body. I want to look into my friends wisely nodding eyes when I tell them what’s wrong with me, and see something besides indifference, pity or secret joy its not them.

I want to be. I want all the best parts of me to float to the surface, and tackle the mountain of problems boxing in my world. I want to not feel like this disease is rotting my brain. I want to look at other people my age without resentment. I want a free pass to be overwhelmed and break down occasionally. I want a free pass to not always be the strong, mature survivor.

I want to look back on the past 25 years of my life, and not see all the terrors rotting away what was good. I want to feel any sense of self-worth, that everything I’ve been through is going to pay off some day. I want to feel like my doctor actually cares about me, like my insurance is actually helping me, like people are aware that the current diagnosis and treatment for Lyme DOESN’T WORK.

I want to not feel like I have the worst karma in the world. That my universe is not just walking the walk. That one day I can go back to running, and jumping, and proving that women can play sports just as well as men.

I want to stop going through the motions of life, and start living it.

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