Am I Thriving or Surviving?
I really didn’t want to end this series on a sour note.
But that’s not how life works.
I came home sick.
I don’t know if it was something I picked up during the journey, or the possibility of cyanobacteria in the water flowing through The Narrows. Maybe it doesn’t matter. What matters is how quickly things changed.
Just days after one of the most incredible trips of my life, this is what I wrote.
Dear Diary,
I just spent the last four days in misery.
Belly pain.
Unable to keep anything down — unless you count it coming out the other side.
Lovely, right?
Just what a person wants after one of the most wonderful weeks he’s ever had.
I just got back from Zion. Again.
I should be riding that momentum.
Head high.
Feeling unstoppable.
But no.
It’s like a cruel joke.
The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.
Even now, two days later, the thought of eating makes me sick to my stomach. I’m miserable. Depressed doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Lord, take me now.
Please.
I’m so tired of fighting.
Every time I get a little momentum, I get slapped in the face.
Yesterday, I left the house for the first time and went to Walmart to restock supplies. Halfway there, I realized my AC wasn’t working.
Great.
I grabbed half the things on my list and said screw it. I felt like shit.
Then, on the way home, I heard a strange noise coming from the car.
Now what?
Rear shock.
Again.
A couple of months ago, I replaced the shocks. Loose again. WTF.
If you know me, you know I’ve always been mechanically inclined. I was the guy who could fix anything. The guy who just knew.
Now I question everything.
Is it my memory?
Is it because I never really feel good anymore?
Is my health affecting my ability to be my best?
Probably all of it.
Or is this just a stretch of bad luck after a lifetime of—that was too-easy’s?
I don’t know.
Maybe it’s a test.
Maybe it’s punishment.
Surely not.
After thirteen years of health issues, I feel like I’m overdue for a little lightning in a bottle.
Right now, I know I’m just feeling sorry for myself. I can feel my thoughts rolling down the wrong side of the street — the side filled with negativity and blame.
Stu. Quit feeling sorry for yourself.
Remember where you just were.
Remember, you big dummy.
You have Myositis.
You don’t do something like that — and not pay a price.
Everything has a price. Especially when you live with a chronic illness.
You’re lucky.
How many patients would trade places with you in an instant?
So many.
What I should be thinking is: You did it.
Really.
You did.
(That brings tears to my eyes as I type.)
I did it.
Shut up.
Get up.
Shake it off and get back to work.
Maybe I needed a detox.
Maybe I needed to lose a few pounds.
Maybe instead of seeing this as a setback, I should see it as an asset.
A reset.
A recalibration.
A fresh start.
A few weeks ago, I told a neighbor I could never do a detox fast. I remember saying I could never go four days without food.
That’s funny.
I just did.
Is this the devil messing with me? I have a great week and this is his idea of a joke?
Fuck you.
If that’s what just happened, please stop screwing with me. Throw me a bone.
Months Later
Reading this now, months later, I can’t help but ask why all of this has happened to me.
Why, at fifty-five, do I feel like I’m constantly being tested?
What am I supposed to be learning?
And why do I feel compelled to share something this private?
Maybe it’s because I want people to know they’re not alone.
Life is brutally unfair — and somehow, at the same time, incredibly beautiful.
How can I feel both blessed and tortured?
Yet that’s been the pattern of my life.
Moments of joy followed by despair.
Or despair followed by joy.
Maybe I can’t understand one without the other.
Maybe disappointment is the price of wonder.
I don’t think I can truly understand happiness unless I’ve known failure. I don’t think I can appreciate joy without having lived through pain.
That’s not pessimism.
That’s experience.
Yesterday, I learned how to survive.
Today, I’m learning how to thrive.
If you’re curious where this all started, I wrote about my first trip to Zion back in January of 2023.
A Canyon, A Snowfall, and a Second Wind
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Start at the beginning of the I Wanna Go series:
