Sorry for the cliche definition beginning to a post, but I swear it’s relevant:

noun: a person made weak or disabled by illness or injury
adjective: not conforming to the correct format or specifications

I would say that the former definition describes me and the latter my life. I’ve been working for a few years now to take away the negative connotation from both of those things. See, around 18 I got mono, and then I never really got better. Depending on which specialist office you walk into, it’s a brain disease or a psychological issue or an immune issue, etc. Which basically means no one has a fucking clue.


So I don’t live a normal life. I watch a crazy amount of TV. I read a ton of books. I do 1000 piece puzzles regularly, and I am super into paint by numbers and pretty much any other creative endeavour that requires little to no physical energy.

On days when I can, I go do things like bootcamps and take the dogs on walks, and hang out with my family. I didn’t stop being a person the first day I couldn’t get out of bed. I just stopped being the person I thought I was going to be. My five year plan of being a superhero of some sort or an executive extraordinare went out the window. It took me a long time to accept that reality, but six years down the road I’ve created a different life that I’ve learned is the one I was meant for all along.

I graudated from college, I met my husband, I adopted two dog children. I killed an entire garden at least once and am slowly regrowing it. I’ve lived in six different apartments and two cities.

So my life doesn’t look like what I grew up thinking was the picture of success. But it’s happy, and it’s filled with things that make me glad that I’m here. And this place you’ve stumbled on is a place where all of those little things get thrown up. Let’s be friends. Let’s live this unusual life together.


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