If you’re reading this, know that things do get better.
Five years ago, my life could not have looked any more different than it does now. I had just been diagnosed with a connective tissue disease that would forever change the way my life looked. In the span of a year, I had gone from being a healthy, happy fifteen-year-old who spent every night of the week at a different sports practice to one recovering from two major surgeries, wheelchair bound, with no clear end in sight. I was not in school and each day seemed to bring a new pain, a new dislocation, a new problem to be solved.
While my physical health suffered, in turn so did my mental health. It was hard for me to grasp the gap between where I had been and where I was now. When I looked at my life and everything I had planned for it, it all seemed impossible, like there was no way to get out of the downward spiral I was trapped in. I pushed so many people away, not wanting them to be burdened by everything happening to me. The thought of being able to go away to college in a few years was not even on my mind.
I did not know that it was possible for things to get better.
Nevertheless, things somehow did get better. With the help of incredible specialists up and down the east coast, the never-ending support of my hometown, and the steadfast love of my family, I was able to be back in school for my senior year. I was able to go to prom, walk with all of my friends at graduation, and even commit to going away for college. Finishing my first year at UVA was such an enormous accomplishment for me. Being able to manage my health on my own, away from my support system, gave me such a sense of joy. This is not something I ever thought I would be able to do.
I have come such a far way, but I still have so far to go. Second year has been harder for me. I started off this year in a worse place physically, which terrifies me each day. Because I do not look sick, it is hard for people to understand everything that has happened to my body. And it is hard for me to tell them. It’s so easy for me to go about my life pretending like everything is fine. But this is so damaging to my mental state and to my happiness.
Things are not perfect. Not even close. Every day I wake up and wonder if this is the day that something will go wrong. That I will be walking down the street and my knee or my ankle or my hip will dislocate and I will end up back in a wheelchair. That maybe this time it will be my heart or my spine. That the vicious cycle will begin again. That I won’t be able to get my health back on track.
But, every day I also wake up and get to go about the incredible life I have here at UVA. I get to take classes that put me on track for a career in medicine that will allow me to help kids like me. I get to spend time with my amazing friends, who make me laugh until I cry, who I am trying so hard to let in. I get to volunteer at the nursing home. I get to study in Clem. I get to walk to class through the lawn. I get to cook dinner for myself in my apartment.
I think about the quote “remember that once you dreamed of being where you are now” a lot. When things still seem to be hard, sometimes it is difficult to reflect on how far you’ve come. Fifteen-year-old me could never have pictured being where I am now. That gives me so much hope for the future and for everything to come, no matter how much pain comes with it.
Leah K., University of Virginia ‘22