Chronically Elle

I just had a thought that I really needed to type out. I’ve been in this high state of emotional conflict lately where I feel trapped between showing who I am and owning it, and shying away from it out of fear of how I could be perceived. Specifically regarding EDS. EDS has affected me my entire life. But I always put my head down and stayed quiet through the pain. I took the proper medications and did the right physical therapy, but I hated talking about it and cringed at the term “chronic illness.” How could I possibly be ill if I am competing at national levels in the pool? How could I be both tough and acknowledge this illness at the same time? I always felt that having EDS was something that should be only mentioned if absolutely necessary. Kept on the down low. A secret. 

With the exponential increase of intensity in training I have experienced since coming to college, my body gave me no choice but to start listening to it and speaking up for myself if I wanted to continue to have success in the pool. The first couple months of my freshman year consisted of constant flareups that I just could not avoid talking about if I wanted to remain the athlete I always was. That “toughness” I carried with me every day had to show up differently, in the sense that I had no choice but to be brave and vulnerable (ew, who wants to be vulnerable?). I began talking to my athletic trainer and my coaches, and finding resources online that helped me understand how my journey might have to look different from the rest of my teammates if I wanted to continue growing as an athlete. Over the past year I have started to learn so much more about my condition and found platforms online that have made me feel so seen and so understood. I started becoming more open to the idea of taking ownership over my condition. Being confronted by these flare ups forced me to start listening to my body and gain more confidence in myself as a zebra (EDS patient). I spent so much time searching for social media accounts run by people just like me, and felt an overwhelming sense of relief and comfort in the fact that I am not alone, most certainly not any less tough for having a chronic illness, and more importantly, for speaking up about it. These accounts inspired me to want to do the same for others (the ultimate purpose of this section of my blog). But this new confidence still came with internal conflict that I am currently struggling to shake. This might sound hypocritical, but as an athlete with EDS, part of me still felt insecure once I started to post more about my experiences. I still find myself retreating back into my younger self who feels like admitting what I go through makes me viewed as weak or self-pitying. So despite everything I just said about my newfound confidence, I still wonder: does posting about my struggles make me look like I feel sorry for myself? Because that is absolutely NOT the goal. And I know deep down that I could not be further from weak. And I am so sorry if you thought I might have an answer to this conflict but I don’t. But as a music fanatic, I did have a thought that comforted me. I thought about how music artists who write and sing about depression and other mental health struggles might be seen as being “woe is me” for being open about the battles they fight. Taylor Swift, the queen of breakup songs (and so much more but that’s not the point), uses her voice to express her heartbreak through music. And though some may see these artists as self-pitying or just outright negative, they are truly doing God’s work for the people who relate. At the end of the day, having someone to relate to can be a game-changer, a life-saver, or simply just a sense of comfort that you are not alone. And that is my goal here. On this blog, social media, and in the world in general.

Okay, I need to go to sleep. Time to dream of a world where zebras don’t ever feel like they have to paint over their stripes!