I have convinced myself that if I count down the lampposts along the boardwalk the time goes by faster. So there I was, running the boardwalk and beginning my “lamppost countdown.”
With 5 lampposts left Passion Pit’s Carried Away blared in my headphones. I picked up the pace.
4 a smile spread across my face.
3 the sun was blinding and beautiful.
2 I’m almost there.
1 I’m crying.
There I was- by myself, crying on the boardwalk listening to Passion Pit. For any observer this would have been quite the odd thing to see. A twenty-five year old female, alone and sobbing for no apparent reason. Fortunately it was 6:30 in the morning and the only people out were me, the seagulls, and some man that I swear was secretly racing me.
This was my catharsis.
When I woke up that morning I knew I had turned a new leaf that would be a journey, and possibly a struggle. I put my sneakers on with determination, did a stretch, and was on my way. When did I let myself stop caring? When did I convince myself that I didn’t deserve to be an active 25 year old? I didn’t even know when the slump started, but it did.
My story starts in 2003 when I was sixteen and diagnosed with lupus. My new story started yesterday morning.