Wishing it away

When I was a little girl, I used to love picking dandelions and making a wish. I would wish for whatever my little heart desired, blow as hard as I could, and watch my wish float toward the clouds. I was convinced that as long as I got all the little seeds off in one big "blow," my wish would come true.

I know better now.

Now I know that no amount of wishing or blowing will make the bad stuff in life go away. Nor will it make the good stuff come to pass. Life doesn't work that way. I still find the little girl in me wishing that it did. Especially these days.

The last few years have been hard. I have wished it all away more times than I can count. I could blow on a thousand dandelions, but it doesn't help.

Someone asked me the other day, "How does all of it make you feel...really?" She was referring to my health issues. I opened my mouth to answer, then found that I had none.

I mean, I could give the standard answer about how I literally feel. I am so tired most of the time I find it hard to function. My get-up-and-go has got up and went, as the old saying goes. I ache. Constantly. Every which way I turn, I get muscle cramps -- and when I try to stretch to work out a cramp, I get another. My hands are going numb, and there are sharp pains in my wrists throughout the day.

Let's add all of that to a laundry list of other symptoms that I get to deal with that I won't go into here. The list is too dang long and ain't nobody got time for that. And I'm tired of thinking about it. I have Wolff Parkinson White Syndrome. I have Hashimoto's disease...which led to me having my thyroid taken out, which led to me having hypoparathyroidism. Those are the labels I now wear.

So...how does it all make me feel?

I feel like I have lost myself along the way. I don't have the energy to go and do things like I once did. I do good most days to just get through the work day and get myself home. I don't go out much after -- just don't have the gumption to do it.

I miss me. The me I used to be. She's still in there, fighting to get back out there. And she will one of these days. I've made up my mind that whatever it takes, she'll have her comeback.

I feel guilty. There are so many people who have it so much worse than I do. And I feel bad even saying I feel bad when there are people out there fighting for their lives. I feel like I have no right to complain. So I try really hard not to.

But there are just some days...

So...that's how I feel. I'm not down in the mouth. But I'm not giddy and sparkly. I'm just somewhere in the middle. Clutching my dandelions.