“What lies behind you and what lies in front of you, pales in comparison to what lies inside of you.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have a lethal belief that I will get better despite living with a chronic debilitating disease. Everyday my faith is eroded by my worsening situation. But yet, I still believe. I still have hope. I still trust that the universe has something planned for me and having to deal with multiple sclerosis is a part of that plan.

And even though I seem confident, don’t be fooled by the expression on my face. It’s fake. I’m smiling on the surface but so afraid inside. And those fears sit on my conscious and feed the beast I have within me.

MS tends to set fire to every aspect of my existence. Burning up anything in its path. What once was a life filled with shooting stars is now populated with flamed out remains. Resembling a pollutant of foul dust. Enough to fill a valley with ashes, falling to the ground littering the earth with deserted dreams and scorched hope.

Multiple Sclerosis is an evil being that keeps finding my hiding places for my joy. I love to run; now I can’t walk. I love to write; now I have problems moving my hands. I was very talkative, but nowadays my thoughts are scrambled and my voice is weak. And these new deficiencies make me feel like I’ve given up everything.

When I find myself in such a bad space, I look for comfort in what my mother told me as a child.

I asked her, “What are the stars for?” She said, “The stars are for you.” So for a long time I believed the stars shined for me. And today, I still kind of believe that. Not that they are just for me but they are for everyone. We each have our own star that we will become.

So when it’s dark and I’m stuck and hurting, I search for the stars. And when I find them, I close my eyes and fill my soul with their light. Replacing the wounds. Healing my pain. And somehow those thoughts keep me going. It’s a something that’s inside. I can’t explain it. But I can feel it. It helps me push myself to the limit. Thrusting me through the grief. And it’s always there.

Those moments when I look around and my MS brain doesn’t recognize anything, it reassures me I’m safe. When my life feels like an unfamiliar dream. It shows me something recognizable. It’s a something that lets me see the darkness and the rainbow at the same time. It finds my hope and brings out the best in me. When my body is deceiving me and my emotions break me down, it compels my weeping eyes to produce multicolored tears.

I believe everyone has that something in them. It’s like being able to lockup happiness and take it out when you need it.

So the next time you are in a crisis just remember to look for it, because some day that something inside maybe the only thing that can save you.