I’ve been trying to write a post the year since my diagnosis, and in all honesty, I just can’t seem to. How do you sum up so very much in black and white words?
Mostly I’ve just been thinking about fairness. If you asked me what my biggest struggle about the MS has been, it’s been the same struggle with Gabe’s death, with the miscarriages, my relationship with my mother, ending a friendship last week, and a million other things.
It’s not fair.
I cry out that things aren’t fair like a child – looking for someone to come along and fix things, to force everyone and everything to be fair.
I know life isn’t fair. I know it in my bones, I know it like I know my name and the shape of Mr. Spit’s shoulders. I know life isn’t fair, that fairness isn’t even a promise made and broken. No one ever offered humans fair.
You can work hard, you can try everything, you can give it your all and do your very best, and sometimes that just won’t be enough. You actually control very little. The universe cares less about you than you can even imagine.
You can know things in your bones – that you didn’t deserve the bad things that happened, that you weren’t perfect but you gave something your best and your best effort is not inconsiderable, that you loved someone as hard as you could and it just wasn’t enough.
You can know these things and it won’t matter a whit when blatant unfairness comes to call. It won’t matter when life leaves you knocked over, bruised and bleeding. It won’t matter when it feels like your arm has been chopped off, when you are grieving and unsure how you will ever be happy again, when you live life worried about the future.
Life isn’t fair. It never promised to be fair. Fairness isn’t even a goal. Fairness matters even less than anyone can imagine.
What does matter?
Standing back up. Not immediately, but eventually. The moment when you uncurl yourself, expose your soft belly to the universe, knowing it’s probably going to get sliced open again, and that’s ok.
It’s been sliced open before. You healed it then. You’ll heal it again.