Sometimes I feel like Lyme disease is a black hole and I'm standing on its event horizon. Petrified, yet consumed with its mystery. My feet too heavy to move from the crushing grip it has on me. One second of my life spent frozen on the event horizon and a life time of the world around me has passed. Events come and go and I'm powerless to participate. I'm standing still while life around me moves at warp speed.
Last week, I had a few decent days. I celebrated by actually folding socks without throwing them unmatched into the drawer as I've been doing for the past six months.
"I'm on fire," I told Mr. Wild Dingo. Like time, cause for celebration is relative.
I caught up on projects and made calls. Heck, I even made a “To Do” list which, in and of itself, can be baffling to do for a Lymie. And just when things seemed normal, I found myself right back on the event horizon of Lyme.
After nearly a decade of practice, I've learned to be at peace when my world once again grows smaller. There’s a certain tranquility in this space and freedom from the chaos of real world. I can tune out the noise and appreciate the small things, like sunlight through a redwood tree. I know staying in this space is unnatural but no matter how much I want it, I can’t force myself to get better any faster.
Nobody will argue that the older you get, the faster life moves. But living with Lyme disease, it goes that much faster.
Standing Still at Warp Speed
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