Airplane Resolutions

So I’m 6 hours into my 9 hour flight from Honolulu TO Auckland and I realise I’ve probably already caught up on more movies on this plane than I have in months at home. I’ve watched “Stuber”, “Wild”, and “Godzilla: King of the Monsters”.
6 hours of comedy, life challenges, and monster movies, and I’ve come to realise some things about my life.
Now, most people like to make new years resolutions…but not me. I like to make long plane ride resolutions. Why, you may ask? Well think about it… What are you most likely to keep a promise to yourself from- A night of drinking, partying, and general debauchery? OR, a really long plane ride where you’ve been forced to TRULY THINK for hours after the boredom of too many movies in a row kicks in?
Exactly.

2010-2019
I faced some really hard realities about myself and my life this decade. I’ve dealt with very difficult situations, and they have taken quite an emotional toll on my mental and physical state across the board.
I won’t share all of them here.
But I will share what going through them has taught me and how it’s helped me move forward in a positive way.

1) I forgive you.
I forgive those who have hurt me. I forgive those who have harmed me physically. I forgive those who have harmed me mentally. I forgive those who have cast me out. I forgive those who have spread lies. I forgive those who hurt me because they hurt themselves. I forgive those who have cheated on me. I forgive those who have wished me harm.
I forgive you.
And I forgive myself for holding onto the hate and dispair that I carried for so long because I could not allow myself to let it go.
But I have… I’ve learned to let it all go.

2) I’m not afraid to be alone.
I’ve spent so many years thinking that the key to my happiness was waiting for me in another person(s). But this decade has taught me that being alone and happy is so much better than being in relationships with the wrong people. Nothing is worth staying in relationships where you are undervalued, abused, disrespected, or manipulated.
I still believe in soul mates. I always have. But I now believe they don’t have to be romantic. And we can have as many as we like. It can be our family members, our friends, and strangers we meet along our journey.
I will never again settle just because I think I’m unworthy of love. I won’t settle just because I’m sick and my mortality scares me. I will be alone as long as I like because I realise I have never been more surrounded with caring people than I am now. Love takes many different forms, and I feel truly relieved to finally realise that.

3) My illness doesn’t define who I am.
It’s been 12 years since I was first diagnosed with an autoimmune disease, and 7 since it turned severe. I’ve been pricked with more needles than someone should in a lifetime. I’ve been prescribed all manners of chemical warfare to irradiate an incurable disease that is destroying me from the inside out. One day, sooner than me hitting old age, I will die from this disease.
But I am an entire person without it.
I am fighting every day to make this life a little bit longer, and every day I succeed just a little bit more. I live for my passion of cooking, and song, and coffee, and cats. I live for my family and for my friends.
I live for myself for as long as I breathe air on this earth. That’s all that matters.

Airport Musings

I have always been a traveler. Partially because my Dad was a pilot, and flights were inexpensive in my youth. Mostly though, because I love to explore.

Before I got sick I had visited over half of the places on my “travel bucket list”. At 32 that was a pretty good feat. I’m not sure how many people that age could say the same. In fact, I was so grateful that I had, as traveling with chronic illness became less easy. Not so much the traveling with pain part (though it definitely factored in), but more because I couldn’t work anymore, so no money to explore the world.

These days most of my travel is around the country (New Zealand), to visit friends or take long weekend road trips. Once or twice a year I also go back home to Hawaii to visit the family remaining there. So while I don’t travel as much as I like, I still frequent airports.

Airports.

*sigh*

No one likes airports, let’s just say that right now. Crowded with people, long security lines, and overpriced mediocre food.

I dislike them even more now that I live with my disease. My pain isn’t usually visible, so I often don’t request wheelchairs when I really should. I push myself to walk the long halls to the gates, each step becoming more crippling, as I ignore the pain tweaks traveling up my spine. People scowl at me when I stop abruptly to stretch my sore limbs, not understanding why someone my age is clutching her back like that of an elder. They don’t understand the stress on my face when I finally get seated, muttering under my breath about the pain. But this has been my life for seven years now, and I’m used to treatment from others. My disease is invisible, and might as well not exist to those rushing past me to get to the gate, like a car speeding up to a red light.

Today I’ve luckily given myself ample time to get to my gate. I woke up with a terrible pain flare in my left knee/fibula. It has me walking with a limp, and I’m cursing myself for not bringing my cane, which sits uselessly in my closet at home. People have pushed past me in a hurry a couple times already, causing a few painful stumbles on my part. I see them now sitting at the same gate as I, annoyed at their rudeness.

*sigh*

In front of me is a wall with “Baggage Claim” posted on a sign with an arrow pointing westward. Amused, I wonder if that’s where I can find my illness insecurities. Perhaps they are making their rounds on the conveyor belt. Perhaps someone else will pick them up by mistake, maybe even take them home so I will be rid of them at last. How fortunate I would be.

I watch a hysterical child run around the gate like she’s been given candy to keep her quiet and it’s backfired. Her parents look tired and uninterested in her antics. As she repeatedly jumps up and down on the bag weigh machine, I pray it stops working so the anxiety of my bag being too heavy is alleviated, despite my knowledge of it being under already.

Airport anxiety + chronic illness = more pain. Hopefully it will cause me to pass out on the plane.