Hope from a Chrysalis
They took you away from me. I mourn my good health, of which you held the key. So little did they offer, a small pill. Both of us forever changed. Everyday holds a surprise. Who will I be without you? Incomplete, because you completed me. Alas, no longer am I whole. Without you, I am a free floater, one day a manic another day paralyzed. Complacency eludes us. Where we were “we,” now I am only me. Upside down and turned around.
People are looking at me through the side of their eye. I see them and I feel their bewilderment of me. People are always starring at “odd”. It is not a friendly look that says “Oh hi, we are the same, you and I.” It says the opposite: “What the hell is wrong with you girl?”I know they think I am bizarre I want to explain, because you see I am well enough to know I am not myself. It’s like myself is inside wanting to add, it’s okay, I’m better than I seem.
This shakingstaringwildeyedgirlisstillhuman…I think? Will you give me a chance to explain? No use, the cover of “my story” says Don’t Read. We can’t get past that! Sigh. How many times do I walk away and tell myself to breathe, stop shaking, get a grip, relax, it will be okay, let me pull all my loose threads, I’ll be back, next time I will be calmer and you won’t remember me the same way.
It is lonely in here. I have been learning to be alone. I am sometimes better at it. I can do things that I didn’t have time for before. I paint, and draw. I write and I sew. I hear music with a whole new ear (it’s better than before). I go in my garden, I see better even though my eyes are blurry. I “get” things like I never got before. I am smarter than most. I read and I learn. I witness and I laugh. I laugh harder, I think. I cry harder, too. I “LIVE ” in the moment because I am only this moment. When I think about the past, it’s a different “me”. When I think about the future, I can’t see. I only can know this very moment. I took this picture.
One morning I sat on the garden wall in my PJs and watched these butterflies open and dry their wings. My friend breeds butterflies in the summer and he gave me a twig with three babies hanging and waiting for the moment to come. I anticipated their birth. Suddenly I realized I had played too much with this twig and to my horror one fell off its hinge! Oh what could I do? You see, it has to hang just a certain way or it won’t open. The two you see opened nearly at the same time so I called them “the twins,” named for my twin granddaughters. I felt so responsible for this broken one that I thought and thought about what could I do to fix the damage I had caused. I headed upstairs to see what could be done. I tried so many things, even thread on a needle to sew and tie it back on. Then I had a perfect idea, I thought. A long time ago I had tried false eyelashes. I looked for the adhesive. After many attempts, it held! I felt like a mother again!
I took it outside and let it hang in my tree by my window. Well I am proud to tell you it worked, Somewhere in my memory drive is a film of it opening. She lives and flies today, because I cared, and I tried! Don’t give up, keep trying. We can all help each other. Share what we learn, and never be alone again. Perhaps someone will find the way to make “OUR” butterflies fly. Gently and normally again.
Keep believing, and don’t let them give up on us. We are waiting.
Tags: dear thyroid letter, graves' disease, Graves' support, health literary community, Hope from a chrysalis, hyperthyroid community, hyperthyroidism, mourning thyroid, symptoms of Graves, TED, thyroid eye disease, Thyroidectomies