My Support System

This is the post I rewrite in my head at 3 am. It's the one where I struggle to put into words just how much the humans in my life mean to me and how they show up. My friendships have always been a huge part of my heart and self; this extends not only to those in my everyday life but also to those who have walked me through hard times, even if I've lost touch with them.

When I was first diagnosed, I told very few people, mostly just close friends and family. Their reactions were shock, sadness, and a few tears. Gradually, I would bring it up in more conversations with people, but I always felt bad—like I was sharing this heavy weight with them that they didn't know how to respond to. Like when you show up to a funeral for someone you didn't know all that well and don't know what to say. So I stopped telling people, and then one day I ran into someone who told me they knew through a mutual friend. At first, I was upset. It wasn't their news to tell, and I felt betrayed. But then a funny thing happened. I realized that in some cases, it was easier for people just to know. Know why I have a tremor, why I move around like I have to pee all the time, and sometimes why I can't think of an ordinary word or name. Also, to explain it to their kids as I have with mine. But it took me years to figure this out for myself and feel comfortable letting my friends lead the way at times. These people, my family and friends, are what fulfill me and carry me from one day to the next, through both their emotional and physical support.

When Michael J. Fox's movie ‘Still’ came out, my closest friends planned a night for us all to watch it together with our partners. We all cried and laughed, and there was no better feeling than that!