“Hold on for one more day…” — Wilson Phillips 🎵
📖 A Scroll That Made Me Laugh… Then Think
As I was minding my business, innocently scrolling through Instagram (because that’s always dangerous), I came across a post that made me laugh out loud.
“I just want Wilson Phillips to know I’m still holding on, but sht is getting pretty rough out here.”*
I laughed.
Then I paused.
Because…
Same.
If you grew up in the ’90s, you probably know exactly where my mind went.
🎵 “Hold on for one more day…”
Listen…
I’ve been holding on for a lot more than one day.
More like twenty years.
💜 Holding On Looks Different Than People Imagine
I’ve held on through a Crohn’s disease diagnosis that completely changed the trajectory of my life.
I’ve held on through years of medications, chemotherapy infusions, surgeries, procedures, scans, scopes, enough blood work to keep several vampires well-fed, and enough hospital bracelets that I’m seriously considering starting a collection.
At this point, if hospitals had a loyalty rewards program, I’d probably qualify for platinum status.
Then, just when I thought my body had exhausted its list of plot twists…
Myasthenia Gravis entered the chat.
Because apparently Crohn’s Disease looked around and thought,
“You know what this story needs? A sequel.”
I’ve held on through days when breathing became something I actually had to think about.
I’ve held on through nights connected to my IVAPS machine, grateful for technology that helps me accomplish something most people never have to think twice about.
I’ve held on while my muscles decided brushing my hair, chewing dinner, or climbing a flight of stairs suddenly required Olympic-level preparation.
🌻 Life Didn’t Pause Because I Was Sick
Somewhere in the middle of all that…
Life kept happening.
Bills still had to be paid.
Laundry continued its never-ending mission to reproduce.
Emails still expected responses.
Meetings still appeared on my calendar as though my body hadn’t already scheduled an emergency staff meeting without consulting me.
Apparently adulthood doesn’t offer sick days from adulthood.
Somehow…
I still get up.
I still go to work.
I still advocate.
I still write.
I still answer the phone when family or friends need me.
I still find reasons to smile.
And I still laugh.
Although, admittedly, some days the laughter sounds suspiciously like delirium.
😂 What Holding On Really Looks Like
One of the biggest lessons chronic illness has taught me is that “holding on” rarely looks the way people imagine.
People picture courage.
Strength.
Perseverance.
Sometimes that’s exactly what it is.
Other times…
Holding on looks like negotiating with Crohn’s before leaving the house.
“Listen… I have exactly three errands to run. Can we please be adults today?”
Sometimes Crohn’s cooperates.
Sometimes she reminds me she’s the one making the rules.
Holding on looks like waking up and wondering which version of Myasthenia Gravis decided to report for duty today.
Will today be manageable?
Or did my muscles collectively decide they needed a union break?
Holding on looks like reheating the same cup of coffee three times because fatigue had other plans.
It looks like ordering takeout because the energy required to cook simply isn’t in today’s budget.
It looks like texting someone,
“I can’t today,”
and learning that protecting your health isn’t something you should apologize for.
It looks like sitting in the shower a little longer than necessary because warm water somehow makes everything hurt just a little less.
Then crying…
Not because you’ve given up.
But because sometimes your body needs a release almost as much as your mind does.
Then getting annoyed because crying uses energy too.
The irony is not lost on me.
💭 Strength Isn’t Always What It Looks Like
People often tell those of us living with chronic illness how strong we are.
I appreciate the kindness behind those words.
But there are days when I don’t feel strong.
I feel exhausted.
Frustrated.
Discouraged.
Some days I feel like everyone else received the owner’s manual for life while mine came with missing pages, coffee stains, and was translated through Google Translate.
The truth is…
Holding on doesn’t always feel heroic.
Sometimes it simply feels necessary.
Sometimes it looks like pajamas at three o’clock in the afternoon.
An IVAPS machine waiting beside the bed.
A heating pad that’s become a trusted companion.
A countertop lined with enough prescription bottles to stock a very small pharmacy.
And enough sarcasm to qualify as an FDA-approved coping mechanism.
Just me…
And my dysfunctional body…
Against the world.
🌅 Why I Keep Holding On
But here’s the beautiful thing I’ve learned over these past twenty years.
Holding on isn’t about pretending everything is okay.
It’s about believing there is still something worth holding on for.
Maybe that’s tomorrow’s sunrise.
Maybe it’s hearing my grandchildren laugh.
Maybe it’s dinner with friends.
Maybe it’s finally getting that phone call you’ve been praying for.
Maybe it’s writing another diary entry.
Maybe it’s simply making it to bedtime.
Whatever it is…
It’s enough.
Because every time we choose to keep going, we’re quietly telling our illnesses…
“Not today.”
🎶 A Message for Wilson Phillips
So, Wilson Phillips…
If by some miracle you ever read this…
Thank you.
Your song has encouraged millions of people through difficult seasons.
But respectfully…
Some of us have been holding on for far more than one day.
If you ever decide to write a sequel…
May I humbly suggest…
🎵 “Hang In There… We’re Still Trying.”
I have a feeling the chronic illness community would make it an instant classic.
Until then…
I’ll keep doing what so many of us living with chronic illness do.
Taking life…
One appointment…
One treatment…
One laugh…
One prayer…
One deep breath…
And one day at a time.
Because I’ve realized something.
Maybe holding on isn’t about waiting for life to get easier.
Maybe it’s about discovering that even on the hardest days…
There is still life worth holding on to.
And for me…
That’s reason enough to keep going.
💜 Final Thoughts
Living with chronic illness isn’t about being fearless.
It’s about choosing hope on days when fear feels louder.
It’s about finding joy between appointments.
Finding laughter between setbacks.
Finding gratitude between diagnoses.
If you’re reading this while carrying something heavy—whether it’s chronic illness, grief, caregiving, or simply the weight of life itself—I hope you’ll remember this:
You don’t have to hold on perfectly.
You don’t have to smile every day.
You don’t have to convince the world you’re okay when you’re not.
You simply have to keep going.
Some days you’ll run.
Some days you’ll walk.
Some days you’ll crawl.
Some days you’ll simply rest.
Every one of those days still counts.
Because surviving difficult seasons isn’t measured by how gracefully you move forward.
It’s measured by the fact that…
You do.
And if today all you managed to do was hold on…
I hope you give yourself credit.
Because I know firsthand…
Sometimes holding on is the bravest thing we can do.
💜 Thank You for Reading
Thank you for taking the time to read this entry from The Dual Diagnosis Diaries | Kia’s Journey.
Life with chronic illness is filled with unexpected challenges, but it’s also filled with moments of humor, hope, resilience, and grace. My hope is that by sharing both the laughter and the difficult moments, someone else living with chronic illness will feel a little less alone.
If this entry made you smile, reminded you of a favorite song, or encouraged you to keep holding on, then every word was worth writing.
I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
What song has carried you through a difficult season of life?
Until next time…
Take care of yourselves, and take care of each other. 💜
Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach
Kia Lorice
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries 💜
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