Why I'm Finally Proud of My Chronic Illness Journey 7 Years Later

As July came to a close and August began, I noticed a cloud looming closer and closer. Every August I seem to unintentionally count down the days until the anniversary of when I got sick: August 24, 2012. Every year I ponder the idea of, “I wonder if there will be a time in my life when I don’t think of the anniversary at all? Will August ever just be August again?” I think most people who have faced tragedy in their lives can relate to that same thought too.

For better or for worse, many times when you experience a life-altering event, not only is it permanently engrained into that specific day, but it somehow marks that entire month.

I take it as my designated time to mourn the past and honor all of my lost battles. I guess I did “win the war,” but it was long and hard. It was tragic. I faced heartbreak, there literally was blood, sweat, tears and so so many lost battles. I even did lose a friend who was fighting this fight alongside of me too.

I take this time to mourn and honor the loss of my old self, my old life, my dear friend and all other lives lost in the same ways.

Every year I seem to relive the facts of my life before and after August 24: going from water polo, straight A’s and AP classes, to bed bound, friendless and in head-to-toe pain that was worsening by the day. I was 14. Without fail, that always deeply hurts to relive.

The years ticked by with countless trials and tribulations, I saw many highs and a life’s worth of soul crushing lows. I said goodbye to this world more than a handful of times, and yet here I still am seven years later, beating the odds, gratefully living in my miracle second chance at life.

Over the years, I have had people ask me if it gets easier, if the anniversary stops hurting, and I have to be honest and tell them that even after all this time, it does still hurt. Every year the anniversary hits me at a different time, in a different way and I never have accurately anticipated exactly how it’ll make me feel. But it does always hurt, and without fail, at some point every August, I do bawl my eyes out.

What’s most different about this year is how I’m so much more honed in on focusing on my immense gratitude for life, all the things I can do and giving as little attention as possible to the ways I still feel “less than.”

I’ve worked incredibly hard over the years at my mental health and mindset, but more than ever this year especially,  I’ve decided to take those things to a new level.

This year I decided to start talking about my chronic illnesses less, and when I do speak of them, I make sure it’s in the past tense. In turn, I’ve also dedicated myself to using a healthier, more positive vocabulary when talking about myself in the present moment. I decided it was time to take a break from focusing so much on the past parts of my story, and focus as much as possible on gratitude for the present and the optimism of the future.

So in that spirit, I’ll tell you where I’m at right now: I’ve been in remission for two and a half years, and I’m 90 percent better. I have two small Etsy businesses, I’ve traveled, I’ve gone out, I’ve pushed myself to make new friends and rebuild a new social life that fits this new person I am. My boyfriend (of four years) and I moved in together into the guest house at my parents’ place, and we have four fur-babies. I follow my happiness and I give my energy only to things that make me feel good. I’m happy. I’m enjoying life. I have this immense gratitude for life that I’ll never be able to fully describe with words. I’m also incredibly proud of myself, especially for how I continue to deeply dedicate my life to positivity more and more. For me, mindset is a choice, and I’m very happy with the mindset I choose every day.

Where I’m at in life right now is a place I never thought I would live to see again, and I can’t begin to explain how good that feels. To hit rock bottom, to face and accept death and then to come back to this…? It truly is a miracle.

As for the future, I realize I’ve already accomplished so much of what I always dreamed about, and I’ve managed to take up just about every hobby I ever dreamed of. If I want something, I make it happen. I make the time, I do the work and I damn sure celebrate that whole process.

The things that once felt impossible are within reach, or I can at least see the clear pathway leading towards them. That feeling is amazing, and I try not to walk forward in life afraid of the possibility of “loss” or “failure” because I already know how I alway find my way back from anything, and I always come back stronger and wiser too.

The past can haunt you, it can control you and it can continue to cause you pain for the rest of your life, but I’ve finally learned not to let it. Sure, I may relive and re-grieve the anniversary every year, but there’s no way in hell I will let myself get stuck in the past. I respect the past, I respect the pain and all of those emotions and every single one of my scars, physical and emotional. I’m even grateful for it all because of how it’s just continued to make me stronger. But I damn sure refuse to let any of the past hold me back, and I will not let it continue forward into my future.

Off and on since I got sick in 2012, I wondered if this was some kind of “seven years of bad luck” detour of life, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter what it was, it just matters what I make of it, and who I choose to let it make me.

Life fucking happens to all of us, and pain is inevitable. Facing struggle is a part of human existence. But I’ve learned that to be who I am, do what I do, say what I say and think what I think is a choice I have. To live is my choice. What I choose to make of life and the shit it throws at me is completely up to me. Those facts will either terrify you, or empower you, and I hope it’s the latter.

That is what these seven years have taught me, and that is what I’ve chosen to reflect most on this August.

As I continue to change my vocabulary, as I refer to my struggles as being in the past, as I release the pain, as I accept my healing, as I step more and more wholly into the new me, I am both telling and showing the universe what I want to manifest more of– the law of attraction: like energy attracts like energy.

Health. Happiness. Love.

That is what I choose.

This is my official goodbye to my “seven years of bad luck.”

You may think I’d be ecstatic to slap this book shut, throw it out, burn it and never look back. But it’s always bittersweet to say goodbye, and it’s scary to leave behind what you know as you tread forward into uncharted waters. When you get stuck in life, even if you’re thrown into too small of a box that you first despise, you can grow to a certain kind of peace and comfort in that place. I grew quite fond of “limbo,” facing death freed me and taught me immeasurable lessons.

I would never choose this life path for myself or anyone else, but I also wouldn’t trade my journey for anything. I trust what was destined to be mine.

I close this chapter with immense gratitude. I stride forward with pride, knowing my true strength, carrying forth every bit of wisdom I can, and when necessary, I will look back and I will honor my past with every shred of respect it deserves.

Thank you, universe, for knowing what I needed in order to become who I was meant to be. I will cherish this second chance with every fiber of my being.

This story originally appeared on The Life of an Insomniac