Something has been happening lately that I’m not too fond of. In fact, I’ve had moments where I’ve been flat out mad about it and shed some tears. My body is finally starting to feel the effects of my MD. All the years of bending over using just my back muscles because my legs couldn’t bend without my falling, all the weird twists I’ve had to do to get off sofas and out of cars and all the falling on its own. It’s finally starting to catch up with me…and I’m barely out of my twenties. My back hurts now more often than not. Sometimes to the point it wakes me up in the morning. On top of that, I don’t have nearly the memory I used to. I forget even the simplest things or something someone just told me in a phone conversation. I had a half a cup of coffee the other week and felt like I was on drugs or drunk or something. I have no idea what’s going on with my body or my mind but it’s been insanely frustrating. I shouldn’t be having all these issues at such a young age already. I can’t help the way I have to get up from things or that I can’t bend with my legs so I shouldn’t have to suffer the physical repercussions from that either. Of course, being the “assume the worst” person that I am, I worry something serious is going on inside this weakening body of mine (despite being surrounded by a constant barrage of sick people in December and January and managing never to catch it. Go immune system!)
This brings me to something else I’ve generally felt throughout my life. What I am about to say, I say in the most non-depressive, glass half empty way possible. I know it’s going to sound bad, but it in no way means that I don’t love life or think it’s completely worth living. But…I just have never had the desire to live a long time. When I say “long time”, I don’t mean I want to die at 40, 50 or even 60 probably. I don’t really have a set age attached to it even.
I reiterate how lucky I am that I have a type of MD that doesn’t get worse or lead to my muscles deteriorating like most cases do. However, I was born at a much weaker point on the spectrum than most people. This means that as I age, I’m going to be feeling the effects much sooner than the average person. I have much less muscle to be able to keep strong to begin with. That fact has hit me hard after this last birthday. Sometimes my 30 year old body feels 70. I can relate to my 93 year old grandmother on a lot of the things she’s feeling or the things she has a hard time with.
So I would love to be able to sit here and say that I can’t wait to grow old and go on senior bus tours and retire and all that but the reality is, I completely do not look forward to that. I don’t want to know what my body is going to be like in the later years if it’s already having issues now. I don’t want kids either so that will leave me with no one to take care of me anyway. Ok, I’m going down major buzzkill lane here and my parents read this so I don’t want them to worriedly call me in the middle of the night thinking I’m in shambles over here, so I’ll stop there.
I think I touched on this a long time ago. That I never really felt inspired to eat well or exercise and take care of my body because it was already behind the times to begin with. I very much had a “why bother?” attitude for a long time. I’ve since changed that for the most part (I still eat fast food on the weekends and have been slacking on the yoga I normally do) but I can’t deny that when I hear those news stories about “10 ways to live longer” or what not, it’s just not something I really relate to.
I hope that whatever time I am blessed enough to have on this Earth are filled with as many happy and amazing memories as I’ve already experienced. I’m not going to linger on how long I think will be or how long I want to be here but I will keep trying to make the most out of everyday. I may not want to be joining the AARP Grand Canyon trip but I do want to do whatever I can to enjoy the here and now…even if I have to take some anti-inflammatories along the way.