Getting older with Muscular Dystrophy

G’day, friends, and welcome back!

I know it’s been a while! I have missed you all! I finally wrapped up my Life Coaching Diploma but hit what I like to call the post-study blues. I have been in a real funk and feeling slightly low and drained of energy, and I have had a bit of an anxiety spike, which hasn’t been enjoyable. There has also been a side serving of writer’s block, which has been fun to navigate! But I am happy to say that I am slowly returning and feeling somewhat back to my usual chirpy self. I can’t tell you how glad I am to be able to write again!

While on my little unpredicted hiatus, I turned 25 at the end of July. I know, a quarter of a century. In so many respects, I don’t feel 25. In so many ways, I feel like I am still only turning 18.

As one gets older, each year offers the opportunity to almost hit the reset button: another year to do even better than the last year, to learn more, explore more, create more, and live more.

As someone with a progressive and degenerative disability, getting older is also terrifying. Birthdays went from being so exciting as a child to counting down the years until you reach adulthood. However, once I learnt in full what my disability could and probably will do to me, that’s when birthdays started to feel like a ticking time bomb.

Getting older naturally means the body ages, too, and with Muscular Dystrophy, doing day-to-day tasks gets slightly more difficult. You certainly notice the body is starting to break down when you should be in your prime.

There is fear and overwhelm when you notice that things you could do a few months ago are getting more challenging, like taking off a jumper or even getting off the toilet ( we are all friends now, so I don’t feel like that is an overshare).

Losing the ability to be independent bit by bit, as well as being a young 25-year-old, is such a confusing feeling. You see people in their mid-20s out living the wild life as is almost in a way expected or a rite of passage, and yet here you are still needing help tying your shoes, getting off chairs, having someone put up your hair, driving you places. You feel behind, and if you aren’t careful, you question whether you are living life or just surviving and going with the motions.

Feeling behind in your mid-20s is never enjoyable. However, as I sat in the paddocks on the Tuesday morning after my birthday at my equine-assisted therapy session, I felt a strong sense of contentment despite this slightly lingering melancholy. I felt at peace, content, and present for the first time in years.

The contentment was almost like a feeling of completion, and almost like my body and mind could rest (if only for that 90 minutes at least), take stock, and reflect on the journey up to this point.

My Equine Assisted Therapy Coach also asked me to write out everything I had accomplished up to this point, as that pesky little voice was telling me I was still behind in the race we call life.

As I stared at the list that night, I felt a sense of pride. Who can say they have three qualifications by the time they are 25? I have a Law Degree, a Grad Diploma in legal practice and a Life Coaching Diploma. 

I have done multiple fundraisers, ridden horses, trained for and completed a 5k walk in a month, recovered from spinal surgery in record time, spoken at a business conference, co-hosted an awards evening, held a leadership position in school, am a published author (little unknown fact) flew in a helicopter, been overseas, experienced grief and trauma, and have attended upwards of 80 doctor appointments, am starting a business and running a blog, and have somehow managed to do all of that while managing an ever-changing and weakening body. I have learned to listen to my body, push the boundaries of what I thought I was capable of, still walking at 25, and be able to manage the mental toll of disabled life somewhat successfully.

Having been able to go through all of that in such a short time is no mean feat. I have been to hell and back countless times, sometimes by my own body, sometimes through the actions or inactions of others or myself, sometimes through the circle of life, and also sometimes by my mind. But I am still here, and I am proud of myself. I just hadn’t slowed down enough to take that all in!

I sat in that paddock, contentedly reflecting on life so far; I realised I don’t want to rush life any longer on account of my disability, where I think I should be or where society tells me I should be. While my body will continue to weaken as I get older, and things will become more challenging, which will scare and overwhelm me, taking time to stop and rest is equally important. It is okay to take time and enjoy closing my eyes and feeling a horse breathing calm, slow breaths on my neck and face as he falls asleep in the winter sun. Life is too short not to take stock and take a moment to be at peace and enjoy the small moments. That, to me, is how I want to live my life. On my terms, complete with love and peace, ready to handle whatever the game of life and Muscular Dystrophy throws at me. Here is to 25 and plenty more.

Till next week,