The Journey of Ups and Downs

 I've always pictured the journey of life to be a race. Also, maybe due to the language used in the Bible (2 Tim 4:7 ~ "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith") and my association to what a race is - being a 100m sprinter during my school days, the immediate image that comes to mind when I think of a race is that the path is direct and straightforward. 

But after living more than 3 decades and collecting illnesses along the way, I've come to reshape my image of this race to be a trek that crosses through valleys, fords rivers, climbs mountains... you get the idea. And the pitstops... Again, as a sprinter in the past, we never had pitstops. I just needed this burst of energy at the start and pray that I'd reach the finish line the quickest. And I've never run a marathon in my life. Being an asthmatic, I never had the lung capacity and stamina to do it. I still remember being pushed to run 400m by my house leader even when I had resisted, stating my asthma but I was still made to do it. Halfway through the race, my lungs gave way and I had to stop. 

So... endurance hasn't been a strong suit of mine. 

But now as I bring this analogy to my journey with Moyamoya and my other chronic conditions... it feels like my endurance is tested time and time again. I acknowledge the pain - emotional, mental and physical, that I've experienced... but I do also recognize how this has sparked a deeper personal and professional growth. 

I realize that life in itself is not an easy journey... but sometimes, when I factor in my health... it just feels so much more difficult and it weighs me down. I feel like there are barriers in front of me - they could be physical barriers - things that I realize I cannot do anymore because it will bring harm to my body. But I've also been noticing my psychological barriers of late. I've been feeling weaker and more vulnerable, and that makes me more cognizant of my mortality. 

I feel like i'm teethering between my determination to stay alive to do what I want to do... and wanting to surrender to God and say, I'm ready to go Home... because I am. Honestly, I even wonder if I'm suicidal. But I know I'm not actively wanting to take my life. I'm just ready for death to take me if it were to happen. 

My depressive episodes have been creeping in more this year. I find myself withdrawing at times and just crying by myself whenever exhaustion overwhelms me. And this exhaustion isn't just physical exhaustion... it feels like it cuts right through my soul. And I try to distract myself with work and keeping busy... but maybe what I need is just space to be and to feel the pain I'm struggling with. What is this grief that I am experiencing? I don't really understand it. And I wonder if this is what I will be grappling with till the day God decides to bring me Home.