Life with Chronic Vertigo

I truly love people who want to make the world a more truthful, open and accepting place.  People that see outside the dotted lines.  I know a TON of people who are sick and tired of waking up at the same time every day, being a mute on the bus and dreading Sunday's.

The difference between people who are living and people who wish they lived, is having the courage to take that first step out into the unknown.  The place where you are scared, fearful of what is coming and you don't have a clue about what is going to happen.  That is the first step.  I urge you to strap on your sneakers and start walking into a life that you know you're meant for.

Fear.  It's where it all begins.

I am fearful of a TON of things.  I was scared to go to the Drake concert last night at the Tacoma Dome.  I was dreading the huge crowd, the unbelievably LOUD sound system and the thought that I'd be spinning.

I have chronic vertigo and it makes everything a bit more difficult.  I accept it to the best of my ability and try to go on having a "normal" life.  But it makes me fearful, because I don't know when it will send me to my bed, when it will send me running towards the nearest exit or when it will crawl into my mind and cloud my thoughts with negativity.

Last night, I got it bad.  The bass from the speakers vibrated my body and made me feel like I was boogie boarding in Hawaii.  Except I wasn't in Hawaii.  And I wasn't boogie boarding.  It felt like waves were crashing against me and trying to knock me down.

I tried to ignore it.  I kept telling myself that I was okay and that it would go away.  Except it didn't and I quietly suffered through 3 hours of the floor flipping upside down only to feel like the ceiling was about to squash me.  "PHEW.  The concert is over."  I exhaled loudly and we walked to the car.

I woke up proud.  Proud that I don't let vertigo rule my life.  Proud that I don't let it keep me laying flat 24/7, which I've heard many vertigo sufferers succumb to after a life of spinning.  I'm writing this because I want you to know that people suffer in silence and they start to feel like they are not like everybody else.  But when you share your story, your personal struggles, people share with you and you create a connection.

I'm looking to connect with people who are willing to share their struggles, their triumphs and let ourselves know that we are stronger than we think.  If we are willing to connect.  Truthfully.  Openly and without judgment.