Each year I remember.
Each day I recall why I so often forget.
Last month I visited Orlando – the wonderful city where the not-so-wonderful illness of encephalitis almost caused my life to end. I spoke about my time in the hospital and the long term results of that illness. I talked and remembered. I invited the audience to visit my past with me as my new journey of life-with-epilepsy started.
What did I remember? Faces. Voices. Conversations. Efforts to remember when all I could do was forget. Medications. Side-effects of medications. Resistance and reluctance. Denial and anger. MRIs. Nurses and doctors. Questions and more questions. I remember forgetting.
And I still forget.
But I remember good during the bad, love during the pain, peace during the storm, hope during the disease and disability.
How are you damaged? What pains do you deny?
Is there someone you can talk to? Are you willing to tell your story?
The therapy of confession, of journaling, of accepting ourselves, of praying, of refusing to give up can be a part of our healing process.
Let’s not miss it. Even if we miss former parts of previous lives, let’s not miss the treatments nearby.
For more of Chris Maxwell’s story about his illness, purchase the eBook version of his book Changing My Mind: