Today, something profound hit me:
For the past two years, I haven’t truly lived. I’ve been so focused on healing, so consumed by my condition, that I built my entire world around it. Every decision, every thought, every routine was about getting better. Not living, just recovering.
But healing isn’t the same as living.
I thought I was doing everything right. I stuck to my exercises, followed every protocol, tracked every little change in my symptoms. But somewhere along the way, I forgot how to just be. I forgot how to work, how to rest without guilt, how to let life happen without measuring it against progress.
Today, I had an appointment with my neurologist. I had done a new MRI, expecting to analyze every detail of it. But instead, he said something that changed my whole perspective.
“There’s no sign of progression. The MRI looks perfectly fine. There’s no need for another one. And by the way, you’re walking better than when I last saw you. Your tremors have reduced. Your speech is clear. You’re doing really well.”
Then he looked at me and said:
“You need to start living. You’re not living right now. You’re constantly thinking about ataxia. Let it go: life is happening, and you’re missing it.”
And he was right.
I’ve made significant progress—yes. But now it’s time to bring life into my healing. I won’t give up my routines, my exercises, or the discipline that brought me this far. But I’ll also start doing things just because they bring joy.
I’ll read not only for therapy, but for pleasure. I’ll walk not just for balance, but for sunshine. I will work (maybe part time but still… I missed working!). I’ll allow myself to be present, fully.
I’ll continue my medication (Mysoline) as advised. I’ll continue the work but this time, I’m choosing to include life in the process. Because healing is not just about recovery.
It’s about returning to life.
❤️
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