Trained as an architect, I have always been a visual thinker…so it should come as no surprise that I often think of my illness in terms of space.
During the first few years in which I lived with rheumatoid arthritis, I hated the space that this disease declared was mine. First of all, it was much smaller than I was normally accustomed to. I didn’t like the colors on the walls, which seemed to change constantly. There was a lot of disorder, and the dust seemed to build up more quickly than I could sweep it away. It was not as bright as I would have always wanted it to be. And my list of things that I hated about this space could just go on and on.
But I’ve come to not only find comfort in this space that is increasingly defined by my disability, I’ve actually come to really like my little niche. It’s cozy. I like the erratic, unexpected constantly changing colors on the walls. Yes, it is often sometimes just a little (or more) gritty…but it’s real. There are little cracks in the wall that once seemed so massive, and the light is streaming in. I many not be able to run out into that place beyond the wall, but I can still enjoy the view.
While this little space may resemble many others that are out there, it’s my very own. I know the nooks and crannies, all the oddities and strange things…all the seemingly unexplainable. And in a weird sort of way, it’s actually sort of cool.
Stay tuned…for the next adventure of Rheumatoid Arthritis Guy!