If you don’t mind their trademark combination of foulness, expletives, poop jokes, and brilliant insight, I highly recommend this article on Cracked: Five Great Joys In Life That Healthy People Never Experience.
If you’re lucky enough to have a condition that can be treated — not even cured, just treated a little — the moment the medication kicks in is like unlocking a secret level in life. All these years, you’ve existed at half power because chronic illness Harrison Bergeroned your ass, so any meds that take even a fraction of that weight off of your shoulders are basically giving you…superpowers. If people thought you were obnoxious after you got those glasses, with your constant prattle about wood grain and cloud patterns, they’re going to strangle that newfound health right out of you the first time you wake up to find it doesn’t hurt as much as it usually does.
“Holy sh★t, have you ever realized how great it is not to feel like you’re going to die after you eat?”
“Have you tried this walking stuff? It’s amazing! It hardly hurts at all!”
That’s how I felt last night. I had 7 or 8 guys over for a poker game, old friends and new. It wasn’t anything remarkable, except if you remember that I’m the guy who, five or ten years ago, would find it terrifying to even be in a room with 7 or 8 other men my age, forget about inviting them over.
A few drinks in and, thanks largely to having watched Warrior1 a few nights ago, I got the idea that after the game, wrestling would be a good idea. A lot of other people agreed, and we tore it up for a while — none of us particularly in shape, none of us knowing what we were doing, but everybody having a great time. We only smashed one lamp, but it wasn’t even a nice lamp.
Hitting people and smashing things is, obviously, fun enough on its own, even before remembering that I’m the guy who, back in high school, faked a stomach illness because I was too terrified to participate in field day. And now I’m wrestling in my living room, in front of 7 other guys who are ALL CHEERING, and I’m not even worried about if I’m gonna win or how I’m gonna look? And not only that, but I don’t do half bad?
I never would have believed it.
Like the guy on Cracked says, our condition is treatable. I’m not talking about SSA itself (the verdict is still out on that), but everything else, the stuff that really matters — the loneliness, the insecurity, the not-belonging.
The treatment is harder and slower than we’d like, but Oh man, it’s worth it.