I’ve been reading Jeremy Renner’s book “My Next Breath”.

I love his spirit and drive. I love his love for his family and friends. I love that he’s a fighter.

BUT… I started to feel stuck in my own head because there’s a difference between what he went through and what we (lymies) go through.

For the most part, his healing journey was linear – set a goal, work toward that goal, reach that goal.

It’s not that way for us. My journey has been a windy, bumpy road with many ups and downs, peaks and valleys. At times I am in reach of the top of a mountain only to suddenly fall back to the bottom of the valley.

Discouraging doesn’t begin to describe the emotions that come with constant set backs.

I’ve just gotten to the chapter in Jeremy’s book where he has been progressing to the point he can walk with a cane and he learned he may need knee surgery that would put him back in bed and in a wheelchair for months.

And guess what – he felt that discouragement as much as I do. He felt it so much he wanted to just chop it off and get a peg leg.

Thank God he’s human. I needed this man to be human for a bit – this man who has so much emotional and physical strength, this man who can afford all the home therapies, the home care, the people to clean and cook – I needed him to be human for a moment so I don’t feel so pathetic and worthless.

It’s a little funny that in this book of hope and encouragement, in this lesson of drive and determination, the thing that strikes me the most is his moment of weakness when faced with a setback. But it’s not the fact that he was weak for a second, it’s the fact that I could relate to the emotions he was having.

I want to heal. I would give anything to have a path forward knowing I am eventually going to be ok, one step at a time. But that’s not my journey. My journey comes with setback after setback.

This year marks 20 years of being sick – 13 of being disabled. In many ways I have improved so much – but I still have so many days where I can’t get out of bed and I have to rely on the kindness of my family to help me.

Last summer I was riding my recumbent trike several times a week. The last many months have found me in bed more often than not.

This last week I’ve had horrific sciatic pain – the day I was finally able to walk unassisted, my autonomic nervous system acted up causing jitters, shortness of breath, muscle weakness, head pressure and intense fatigue.

I still believe I can improve. Maybe I’ll never be 100% but I’m not gonna stop shooting for that.

But just as Jeremy felt a moment of discouragement and frustration – I feel it too.

As I always say: it’s ok to have a pity party, just don’t unpack and live there.

Today – I’m gonna try to make fat bombs, beans and flat bread (and maybe take a shower). I may not make it through the day, but I’m gonna try.

And that, my friends, is what this journey is all about. Trying and failing and trying again.

So when you fall, rest. Then get up off the mat and get back at it.

Because giving up can’t be an option.