What makes bloogers so special? They're just normal people who are pretty much posting their diaries on the internet. They actually bother me. Why do I care what's going on in someone else's life? I graduated high school and I don't want to go back thank-you-very-much. Keep your fan-fiction or tragic poems in your notebooks where they belong. I don't care if you're an aspiring 'closet writer'. Just be a normal hipster-wannabe and bring a laptop to Starbucks. Write it in the open so there is no doubt you are indeed an aspiring artist. Make sure to order lots of coffee and feign looks of deepest concentration.
So why am I here? I honestly don't know. I have a story to tell, apparently but it's not really tragic or ordinary. I guess any possible readers I have will be the judge. I do want to make one thing perfectly clear before I start. I'm not part of an outreach program or anything and I don't intend to be. I'm not trying to sway you into thinking a certain way. Just believe me when I say that I can't find anything to watch on Netflix right now and writing a blog seemed a bit more appealing. And with that, I will begin my saga. Brace yourselves:
Visualize a blond 15-year-old girl. Short, blue eyes, petit but a little chubby. She wants a lot of things as most do at this age. She's not shy or bullied. She wants attention but she goes a little too far for it sometimes. She wants to feel part of something. She thinks cheerleading. But she's not comfortable with the short skirts. She thinks tennis. But she's not very athletic and she's clumsy as hell. How about drama? A place for the misfits of high school. Where students go when they have nothing else.
So, I'm making it sound terrible but drama was where I had my best memories in high school. Yes, we were weird but I had so much fun. The drama teacher had to warm up to me but by the time I graduated she was one of my favorite people in the world. The stage, the rush, the excitement backstage, it all defined me. I say this with the past tense because it's all different now. I would have pursued my passion beyond the limit if I could change human nature. But what's the saying? 'Play the cards you've been dealt'?
Remember when I said I was clumsy? Well, that's an understatement. It got worse the older I got. I had to stop taking P.E. because I would literally trip over myself. One lap around the gym exhausted me. Managers would stop me in restaurants and ask if I'd been drinking. It was embarassing. My parents noticed too and became concerned. I spent weeks going to hospitals and having tests run. At the time, this was exciting. I'd spend hours in front of a mirror reacting to an imaginary doctor telling me that I had a terminal illness or something. I would force myself to cry as I told the invisible people at my sickbed to stay strong. I would always be with them in spirit. See? It's like the stage and I were made for eachother. I never thought for one second that they'd actually find something.
It was all there in my DNA. Proof that you should never assume you can do anything. Sure, you can hope. But never trust blindly in your dreams without room for consequences. My fatigue, unbalanced coordination and even reaction speeds; I should have paid closer attention to these things that were amiss. Friedreich's Ataxia, a form of Ataxia. A Neurological Disorder. Those who have it usually get diagnosed at my age. But what does it mean for me? Well, I should probably start physical therapy to keep my muscles strong. When walking gets too hard, perhaps a cane or a wheelchair. And of course, they'll be keeping an eye on my heart for any complications. Most Ataxia patients have heart issues...
And yet, I heard none of this. The only thing filling my ears was my internal screams of terror and the sound of a heavy velvet curtain falling on my dreams.
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