So, I was feeling really really strong after feeling not so strong. And then I got a stomach bug. And after a week of being stuck at home, semi-helpless, I felt my anxiety creep back in.

I don’t get a little bug and just think “Oh, I’ll be fine. It’s just a bug,” I think “I might be just a little sick, or…I might be very sick and will have to go through the illness and possibly my death without my partner with me.”

This thought always sends me back to a place of powerlessness, even though I logically understand that I’m making up stories that have no basis in reality. Except, actually, my reality has been all about illness and death.

From the age of 5, illness has stolen my main caregivers and loved ones away one, by one. So, my fears might be seen as based in reality. My reality. 

I go from feeling strong, capable and hopeful, to filled with fear and doubt with one small illness. That’s all it takes. But the trick here, I think, is to keep feeling the fear and doubts and learn to tolerate them and live with them. They’ll probably always be there. They’re a part of me. But they’re not me.

I’m bigger than them and I can exist with them without letting them guide my every action and thought.

And I can survive what life throws my way. Even if it’s scary.