You are worthy

Estimated reading time is 5.5 minutes.
Note: This blog post is not nutrition-related.

One year ago, I came out with my story about dystonia right here on this bloggie. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, but you’re curious, you can go here to read it and then come right back if you like.

Because September is Dystonia Awareness Month and I am “blessed” with a form of dystonia, I thought an annual semi-quickie share of thoughts might be helpful (even if just for me), before September slips away.

The long story super short is: I haven’t been cured, but I keep going forward.

That phrase will likely be my mantra until the last breath I take.

Before I can go any further, my mind and soul ache for all of the people in the world who are suffering more than me. People (including friends) who:
are dying from cancer or other terminal disease,
have debilitating illnesses,
who have lost loved ones to suicide,
are going blind, deaf, or losing sensory abilities,
who have lost jobs,
are going through divorce,
are dealing with the numerous negative downstream effects of COVID-19,
don’t have basic human needs met (like shelter, clean water, and love in their life),
have the same neurological condition than me but much worse in severity,
who have past and present traumas that permeate every single day of their existence,
…and on and on the Pain List goes.

I have often felt a huge sense of guilt for talking about my neuro condition to anyone… because, well… Everybody and Everything in that list above.

But this summer, a Soul Sister from afar wrote, “You do not need to feel guilty for ONE SECOND about your struggles as they compare to others' struggles. That is not fair to yourself to do that. Your struggles are WORTHY. It doesn't matter for one second how they rank--that should never be a thing.”

In these COVID-19 days-daze and in a world that seems to be going batshit crazyyyy, maybe you too have experienced a new or different level of hurt, suffering, challenge, or days on end filled with WTFs. While I never thought my struggles to be worth sharing with anyone (and still have a very hard time with that), I can tell you that she’s right.

Your pain is my pain is our pain. We share in this together, you beautiful humans.
No. Matter. What.

It seems that COVID-19 has brought out this shared experience a bit more and has let us “come together” in a weird sort of way. I hear the shared struggles more than ever before, either because I’m more in tune or because folks are more willing to talk or maybe both..

For me and my dystonia, I can easily hide behind the mask, take cover in my house, and shut out the world… blaming it on the virus situation and falling back on perceived limitations. But, that’s the wrong road on the healing path and gets to a dead end pretty dang quickly.

Even though some days feel heavier in confusion, sadness, and deep dark holes to dig out of, being able to see and sit with The Yuck, while moving the thoughts and actions towards self-compassion is a practice worth fighting for. “You can only hide from yourself for so long.” And I don’t know about you, but I vote for more Alive Time than Dead Time.

So, I keep going forward.
Learning and growing with curiosity.
Engaging in Therapies, of all sorts.
Music and Giggles and Running.
Soaking in the beauty of Nature.
Stepping out of Comfort Zones
Looking for Discomfort Zones.
Practicing breathing, meditation, being present.
Seeking and making opportunity in each Brand New Day.
Working to be one of the best Sports Dietitians in the field.
And loving all of you who have stumbled upon my path, let me stumble onto yours, and have shown your vulnerability with me.

There are no easy days. Ever.
The “I can’t do that” monster appears often.
But I choose to open my ears to the angel who says “But you CAN do this.”
And we go for it and keep going forward.

 
 

Pic 1: How I want you to see me. Pic 2: How I trick my brain to minimize spasms. Pic 3: Reality of spasms.

Thank you for reading,

Dina

“We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full.” — Marcel Proust