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.

What my disease really took

I’m going to be 34 this year, in just a few short months.

Life right now is different than how I imagined it ten years ago.

Life is different than how I ever imagined it.

I don’t think anyone sits and wonders what their life would really be like if they were ever diagnosed with a debilitating disease. Sure, we make idle remarks about how hard it would be, but no one ever truly believes that it would happen to them, or a loved one.

But then it does and the world turns upside down and everything you knew or wanted fades away to a memory. It sits in a dusty picture frame on a forgotten shelf in the back of your mind along with all the other things you’ll never accomplish.

I used to entertain a lovely dream about meeting someone. Or maybe I already knew them. But in this dream time had stopped and we had realised our perfectness together, and so that all was right in the world. They thought I was the most beautiful creature, just as I thought they were as well. We would sit together in silence, holding hands, and smiling in the knowledge of how lucky we were that we had found the meaning of life.

Then when I got sick my dream started to change. Now it was that this person didn’t care that I was ill, and just loved me all the same. When they looked at me all the pain and suffering would melt away, and I would no longer be a girl who was sick. I would just be a girl. A girl who a boy fell in love with.

I don’t let myself think about that dream anymore, not even the newer one. I look in the mirror and see the face that everyone else sees, the face that he wouldn’t want to see. 45 pounds of steroid weight around my belly, legs, bottom, and face. A pain that never goes away, even when treated with a smile. An air of sadness that I can’t hide no matter how optimistic I act. Tight and shiny purple knuckles, legs covered in black and purple varicose veins, a body that rebels against itself at every turn. It’s not what anyone looks for in a mate, I know. I don’t let myself entertain the dream anymore.

Instead I keep my days full. I keep a tidy house, I cook and bake for friends who want it, I play with my cats and feel comforted by their never waning love and devotion. I feel happy for my friends who have found the life I yearn for but can’t have. I congratulate the news of new life, of new families, of love that was meant to last for someone else.

But I don’t let myself think about what I’ve lost. The part of my disease that no one realises is the worst. The loss that is never talked about because it hurts to wonder about something I can’t have.  The someone I will never have. What my disease really took. The one hope I’m not allowed to dream about. The life I lost when I got sick.

If you would like to help me stay on my feet and live happily and not homeless, please visit my campaign and make a donation to my fund. Thank you.

Christine Lilley’s Life Fund