Being robbed

There is often an empty feeling deep within me.

I don’t know what triggers it every time.

It can be celebrating a birthday and realising more time has gone by and I haven’t achieved what I had hoped.

It’s reflecting on where I am in life.

Lately, it is as basic as reading a military romance novel.

Illness can rob us of so much. Illness in any form. From chronic illness to mental health illness. It impacts everyone differently.

My story – at 9 I was diagnosed with Type One Diabetes. Medically a chronic illness. Luckily, I was reared with the support and belief that it would not stop me from completing any task or experience I wanted to complete. And it didn’t. Until a societal rule counted me out of some things.

I longed as a child to be part of something. History was my passion. I loved historical war stories, especially the second world war. I loved the companionship, the comradery, trust, and friendship built between soldiers through shared experiences. The trust they had in each other for some reason always appealed to me, the sense of belonging. So, I considered a role in the army or navy. In secondary school there was a talk from a representative from the army. Here my dreams were shattered. Diabetics could not join. I brushed it off, there was plenty of other job opportunities. But to this day I feel robbed, robbed of a choice I should have had. I often dream of what my life would have been like if I had, had the choice. Maybe I would have hated it and washed out. Maybe I would have made a career. But the choice was never mine. Illness stole my choice. How many of us have such experiences. Who can we talk about this with?

Fast forward 20 years. I’ve travelled the world. Travelled to countries that don’t discriminate against people with various conditions. Here at home, I cannot take a flying lesson. In New Zealand I sored through the sky, flying a tiny little plane. It was exhilarating. In Turkey, I dived for the first time. Little things that people don’t realise can impact on those who are told they achieve these things.

In 2015 I was diagnosed with Depression, an Eating Disorder, Anxiety and EUPD.

Since then, some of what I consider my prime years disappeared. Mid 30’s, I thought I would be celebrating life, working to buy a house, meeting the person of my dreams and hoping that I would become a mother. Instead, my time was spent in and out of hospital, resorting to living with my parents as I couldn’t work, weekly appointments, psychotherapy to face my demons which I had no idea were there. Once again illness robbed me of so much. I wish I could say I recovered quickly. I met the person of my dreams, had the child I had always longed for. But alas, it never happened. I thought I was through the worse but a year ago my world came falling apart once again. I wondered if this would ever end? Will I be doomed to spend the rest of my time in misery, longing for what could have been, that should have been?

The impact of certain illnesses and disease are talked about, and people have some understanding. But what about illnesses that can’t be seen? The impact it has on individuals, is individual. The personal struggles each person faces can be quiet, often unheard of or unspoken. Very few know that I had my dreams broken at 16. Or know that I long for the child I will never have. I don’t verbalise it as it’s too hard. It’s to hard to see the pity people have, or how they brush it off. People will never know the quiet cost having an illness has on some.

To move forward with life, I have tried to accept things that are beyond my control. I have learned there is nearly always a way to achieve something. Like travelling to fulfil the dream of flying. Things are possible, sometimes we just have to be a bit creative to achieve them.