Befriending MS. A Millennial Therapist's Journey to Healing.

September 29th, 2021 I woke up to the spinal tap results confirming what I felt to be true for months, I have multiple sclerosis (MS). I had always considered myself to be one of a kind but never imagined it would be the the less than 1% of the entire world population who have MS one of kind. I enjoy being right and there I was, once again, right. I had after all, told the first neurologist I saw that I had MS during the first visit. He dismissed my statement then ate those words after the first set of MRIs came back and he quickly referred me to the MS specialist in the practice.

I was formally diagnosed with MS three days before my 31st birthday, YAY me! Nothing says happy birthday, you're getting old, like you have an incurrable autoimmune disease. No one knows what causes it, the medications to help stop its progression have awful side effects and they all cost THOUSANDS of dollars per month. If you don't take them you will most definitely die a quicker painful death, hope you have insurance!

MANY things have occurred since the official diagnosis the best and worst began in January of 2023; I went back to therapy. I was angry for the disease I had been given and it showed. Angry for what it had taken from me, for what it had done to my body. Mostly, angry at that stupid look of pity people would give me when they found out. It was my greatest nightmare, someone seeing me as weak. I am many things but weak is not one of them.

I went to therapy and my therapist asked me the worst thing I could have ever imagined. She asked if I could see myself befriending my diagnosis. I was in such disbelief that I was actually speechless for a few minutes. Befriend my diagnosis, why would I every do that?! We weren't friends, MS was my enemy. It was literally killing me.

Long story short, my therapist is basibally a saint and deserves a Nobel Peace Price for standing side by side with me. I screamed and fought her the entire journey to befriending MySelf. Turns out it was me who I needed to extend grace to. It was me who I needed to be kind to. It was me who I needed to hug and love. It was me who I needed to grieve. The life I had before the symptoms and progression of the diagnosis was gone. My body and mind needed me to nourish them in different ways than before. My support system needed me and I needed them differently. Everyday life looked different sometimes. I was just angry and in denial, mostly angry.

Today, on my MS birthday, I remembered to spend quality time with the people who matter to me, I worked a little because work brings me purpose (& that's okay to admit and do!), I watched football, I asked for help when my body told me I needed it. Today, I lived the day befriending MS because the only other option was to be angry at my body and myself for something that even the most brilliant minds have yet to figure out.

Go to therapy. Do the hard work. It won't be fun. It will be worth it.