Being a “Fighter”

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People have expectations. You’re either going to be strong, or you’re going to fall. You have to make the decision, will you keep going or will you just shrug and give up? I chose to fight.

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By “fight” I mean that I decided to continue my life and not let the diagnosis of MS define who Karolyn was. Let’s face it; people will still look at me as the girl who has MS. The least I can do is be the girl who didn’t give in. Having MS has done a lot of damage to me physically, but, getting the official diagnosis has also done a lot to me mentally and emotionally. No one can prepare for a life altering condition, not even Brian O’ Driscoll.

1201375-25098613-640-360With Multiple Sclerosis you see the word “fighter” everywhere; “survivor” is pretty common too. I’m not sure if I agree with any of these terms. Everyone is a fighter and everyone is a survivor, we’re just going through different battles and struggles. I simply chose to keep going. Sometimes having stupid MS symptoms like spasticity, numbness and the like can be heart-breaking, so much so that you just have to breakdown. You’ve ran out of gas. Now all you have to do is get some more so that you can keep on going. It’s just a small bump on a long and bendy road known as “life”.

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My fighting and your fighting might have two different meanings. Fighting for me is getting up out of bed when all I want to do is sleep. It’s going to college and concentrating as much as I can to get a good degree. It’s going for a walk even though my body is saying that it’s exhausted. These little things aren’t much to your “average” person. I can’t comment on what others might be fighting on a daily basis, but, I know that for me it’s the little things.

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You don’t need to have a continuous positive attitude, I certainly don’t. Sometimes others try to understand what I’m going through and they are there to help as best they can. Sometimes that’s not always enough. Every now and then it’s you who has to help yourself. You have to walk that extra mile to the gas station and get the fuel you need to keep going. There are days where I am absolutely sick of how my disease makes me feel, physically, mentally and emotionally. Seriously, everyone is entitled to a bad day. I wallow in self-pity for a day or two, but, I get up again.

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Maybe some would call me a fighter, some would call me brave and strong; I call it coping. You get a shit diagnosis, you cry, you take a deep breath and you carry on. Every road has potholes, some roads are worse than others. You slow down, take it easy going over the hurdle, but, always get back on track. “Fighting” is a daily obstacle for some. It can be for me anyway. I can only speak for myself when I say that I am coping, but, let me have my bad days. Nothing can bloom without rain, right?

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