What one year of my Facebook posts revealed: Part Two


You know when you’re like “I’m sick…” and the other persons like “we know you are…” and your like “But no I mean it… I’m sick…”

That’s basically what reading my Facebook posts from 2017 from start to finish was like.

I know I feel sick all the time. It makes sense because I have a real life, no shitting around immune deficiency. My body makes zero antibodies. I have Common Variable Immune Deficiency, or CVID and it’s my story.

I know it’s my story because I talk about it all the time. It’s been difficult, I must acknowledge that.

But at the same time it has drastically altered my life, it has also perhaps- saved my life.

Sometimes illness will bring on a conversion experience. Maybe you might say mid life crisis, health crisis or dare to say spiritual crisis. I never would have said spiritual crisis five years ago. Even one year ago, although I do amit was starting to tinker with those feelings.

I’m not talking about spirituality in a religious sort of way. Religion to me ruins any sort of spiritual practice. By including power, money, influence, politics and shredding any sort of real appreciation for the universe, it diminishes any value of real spiritual intuition.

Let’s just say organized religion is just not for me and I am not for it. I’ve grown enough to realize I had a crisis of faith, of spirituality, of denying that any sort of power beyond me existed.

Back to Facebook. It is clear that I wanted to be seen. I still do. It sucks to be sick all the time. It’s easier if people feel for me.

There is a weird sort of shame that trots along side sickness. This shame comes will all sorts of opposing feelings.

Since I am now examining what exactly is my power to own within my various illnesses, I have to acknowledge that sickness is part of my narrative and I have a few basic beliefs that come up in a year of Facebook posts.

Why me?

This isn’t fair!

I’m sick dammit and I’m still doing all this shit mother fuckers, aren’t you proud of me?!?!

But after laying it all out, reading, thinking, being honest, vulnerable as any loyal Brene Brown-Oprah-Glennon Doyle fan would be I need to now ask myself these questions.

Why not me?

Why should life be fair?

I may be sick dammit but why, if I am really that sick and I still doing all this STUFF to prove to the other mother fuckers that they’re proud of me?

I’m sick today. Will I be sick tomorrow? Maybe. Probably. I’ll do what I can today so that I can prepare for tomorrow.

Onto part three of what I learned from a year of Facebook posts:

Crisis of identity.