đ Dear Diary,
Today, Iâm writing a letter.
Not to my doctors. Not to my family. Not to the people who constantly ask how Iâm doing.
This letter is to me.
Because Iâve noticed something about myself.
I can encourage someone whoâs struggling. I can remind a friend of her worth. I can find the right words to help someone recognize her strength when sheâs forgotten it.
But when it comes to extending that same kindness to myself?
Apparently, thatâs where my motivational speaking career comes to an abrupt halt. đđ
Somewhere between managing two autoimmune diseases, juggling responsibilities, showing up for everyone else, and trying to maintain some sense of normalcy, Iâve forgotten something important.
I deserve the same compassion I give so freely to others.
And today, Iâm reminding myself.
So, here goes.
đ Dear Self, I Know Youâre Tired
And Iâm not talking about the kind of tired that a good nightâs sleep can fix.
Iâm talking about the kind of tired that settles deep into your bones. The kind that comes from fighting battles nobody sees, explaining symptoms nobody fully understands, and waking up every morning knowing your body might have an entirely different agenda than the one youâve planned.
I know there are days when you look in the mirror and barely recognize the woman looking back.
I know you miss the version of yourself who could make plans without calculating energy levels, who could walk without thinking about breathing, and who didnât have to negotiate with her own body just to accomplish ordinary things.
I know there are moments when you wonder how much more youâre supposed to handle.
And I know that sometimes, despite your best efforts to remain positive, youâre simply exhausted.
Not just physically.
Emotionally.
Mentally.
Exhausted from having to think about things that other people never have to consider.
But I need you to remember something.
You are still worthy.
Not because youâve managed to push through another difficult day.
Not because youâve accomplished everything on your to-do list.
And certainly not because youâve convinced everyone around you that youâre doing just fine.
You are worthy simply because you exist.
Even on the days when you donât feel particularly strong.
Even when your body refuses to cooperate.
Even when the only thing youâve accomplished is making it through the day.
Especially on those days.
đ· Worthy Doesnât Mean Perfect
Somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself that your worth was connected to what you could accomplish.
How productive you were.
How much you could handle.
How many people you could help.
How well you could keep everything together.
And letâs be clear, youâve spent a lifetime being the woman who figures things out.
The problem solver.
The dependable one.
The one who somehow manages to find a solution even when everything around her is falling apart.
But somewhere in all that doing, you forgot something important.
Your worth was never supposed to be measured by your productivity.
Youâre worthy when youâre accomplishing everything on your to-do list.
And youâre just as worthy when your biggest accomplishment is making it from the bed to the couch.
Youâre worthy when youâre smiling, laughing, and making everyone around you feel better.
And youâre worthy when youâre frustrated, exhausted, and donât feel like talking to another human being.
You donât have to earn the right to rest.
You donât have to justify needing help.
And you certainly donât have to apologize for having a body that doesnât always cooperate.
Because hereâs the thing.
You were worthy before you accomplished anything, and youâll remain worthy on the days you accomplish absolutely nothing.
đŠ Brave Doesnât Always Look Like Strength
Now, letâs talk about this word brave.
Because sometimes I think youâve misunderstood what it means.
Youâve convinced yourself that bravery means pushing through.
Showing up.
Keeping your emotions in check.
Smiling when you want to cry.
Pretending everything is fine because you donât want anyone worrying about you.
And while youâve become exceptionally good at all those things, thatâs not the only definition of bravery.
Sometimes bravery is admitting youâre scared.
Sometimes itâs telling someone you need help.
Sometimes itâs canceling plans because your body has reached its limit.
Sometimes itâs sitting in a doctorâs office and advocating for yourself even though youâre exhausted from explaining the same symptoms over and over again.
And sometimes?
Bravery is allowing yourself to fall apart without believing youâve failed.
You donât have to be strong every minute of every day.
You donât have to turn every difficult experience into an inspirational story.
And you donât have to find the silver lining in every storm.
Some days are simply hard.
And youâre allowed to acknowledge that.
Because being brave doesnât mean youâre never afraid.
It means youâre human. Youâre afraid sometimes. And youâre learning how to navigate a life that hasnât always been gentle with you.
Maybe one of the bravest things you can do is stop fighting yourself.
Stop criticizing yourself for needing rest.
Stop apologizing for the changes in your life.
Stop expecting yourself to function as though nothing has happened.
And start recognizing that showing yourself compassion requires courage, too.
You donât have to prove your strength by denying yourself grace.
đ A Word About Those Two Uninvited Roommates
Now, you already know Crohnâs and MG werenât going to let this letter go by without making an appearance.
Those two have apparently signed a lifetime lease, and neither one has expressed any interest in vacating the premises.
And trust me, if I could issue a 30-day notice to vacate, both of them wouldâve received one a LONG time ago.
Unfortunately, neither roommate recognizes my authority as property manager. đđ
Crohnâs has been causing problems since 2003.
And MG?
Well, she arrived years later with an entirely different level of audacity.
Apparently, one autoimmune disease wasnât enough excitement for this household.
But hereâs what I need you to understand.
You are not Crohnâs Disease.
You are not Myasthenia Gravis.
You are a woman who happens to live with both.
And yes, those diagnoses have changed your life.
Theyâve changed how you move through the world, how you plan your days, and sometimes even how you see yourself.
Theyâve taken things from you.
Your energy.
Your independence on certain days.
Your ability to do some of the things you once took for granted.
And there are moments when youâre understandably angry about that.
But they havenât taken everything.
They havenât taken your humor.
They havenât taken your compassion.
They havenât taken your determination.
And they certainly havenât taken your ability to find something ridiculous to laugh about in the middle of absolute chaos.
Because somehow, even when your body is acting like it has submitted a formal resignation letter, youâre still finding reasons to laugh.
And sometimes that laughter helps you get through another difficult day.
But remember something else.
You donât have to laugh about everything.
Youâre allowed to be angry.
Youâre allowed to grieve.
Youâre allowed to admit that living with chronic illness can be incredibly unfair.
Your humor is part of who you are.
But so is your vulnerability.
And both deserve space in your story.
đ» Stop Apologizing for the Woman Youâre Becoming
Dear Self,
I need you to stop comparing todayâs version of yourself to the woman you were before chronic illness changed your life.
I know you miss her.
I know there are days when you would give almost anything to have her energy, her freedom, and her ability to move through life without constantly considering what her body might do next.
But hereâs something I want you to consider.
đ What if the woman youâre becoming deserves just as much love as the woman you used to be?
What if she deserves to be celebrated, too?
Not because sheâs stronger.
Not because sheâs more resilient.
Not because sheâs learned some extraordinary lesson from suffering.
But simply because sheâs still here, figuring things out.
Sheâs learning that boundaries arenât selfish.
That rest isnât laziness.
That asking for help isnât weakness.
And that sometimes the healthiest thing she can do is say, âNot today.â
Sheâs learning that she can love her life while grieving the parts of it that have changed.
That she can be grateful and frustrated at the same time.
That she can have a wonderful day and still be chronically ill.
And most importantly, sheâs learning that she doesnât have to become her old self again to deserve happiness.
She deserves happiness exactly as she is today.
And Kia, I need you to hear this part.
You donât have to spend the rest of your life chasing the woman you used to be.
You can appreciate who she was.
You can miss her.
You can honor everything she accomplished.
But donât become so focused on getting back to her that you overlook the woman standing in front of you today.
Because sheâs pretty amazing, too.
Even if she occasionally needs a nap, a nebulizer, a heating pad, and a very long conversation with herself before she remembers it. đđ
đ You Deserve the Love You Give Everyone Else
Thereâs something else we need to discuss.
Youâve spent so much time being the person others depend on that youâve forgotten youâre allowed to depend on people, too.
Youâre allowed to have needs.
Youâre allowed to say youâre overwhelmed.
Youâre allowed to admit that sometimes you donât have the emotional energy to be everyoneâs problem solver.
And youâre allowed to let people love you without feeling obligated to repay that love by being useful.
I know thatâs difficult for you.
Youâve always been independent.
Youâve always taken pride in handling your responsibilities.
And somewhere along the way, you started believing that needing help meant losing a piece of yourself.
But it doesnât.
Being loved isnât a reward for being strong.
The people who genuinely love you donât need you to be invincible.
They need you to be yourself.
And sometimes that means letting them see the parts of you that arenât perfectly put together.
The tired parts.
The scared parts.
The frustrated parts.
The parts that donât have everything figured out.
Because those parts deserve love, too.
You donât have to be everyoneâs strong person every day.
And you donât have to carry everything alone just because youâve become good at carrying heavy things.
Sometimes the greatest gift you can give yourself is allowing someone else to help carry the load.
đ· A Promise to Myself
So today, Iâm making myself a promise.
Iâm going to work on speaking to myself with the same compassion I so freely give to others.
Iâm going to stop treating rest like something I have to earn.
Iâm going to acknowledge my limitations without allowing them to define my entire existence.
Iâm going to celebrate the small victories, even when they look insignificant to everyone else.
Iâm going to give myself permission to have difficult days without turning them into personal failures.
And Iâm going to remember that my life is still happening.
Not after the next treatment.
Not when the symptoms improve.
Not when I finally feel like my old self again.
Right now.
In this body.
With these diagnoses.
With all the uncertainty, laughter, frustration, love, and beautifully imperfect moments that come with being alive.
Because I deserve to experience joy without waiting for my circumstances to become perfect.
And I deserve to love myself without attaching conditions to that love.
đ Dear Self, One Last ThingâŠ
I know life hasnât turned out exactly the way you imagined.
There have been unexpected diagnoses, difficult decisions, disappointments, and moments when youâve questioned how much more you could possibly handle.
But there have also been beautiful moments.
Laughter that made your stomach hurt.
Memories that still make you smile.
People who love you.
Places that remind you how wonderful life can be.
And experiences you havenât even had yet.
Your story isnât over.
And you donât have to spend the rest of it trying to prove how strong you are.
You can simply live.
You can laugh.
You can love.
You can rest.
You can change your mind.
You can have bad days.
You can have absolutely amazing days.
And through every single one of them, I hope you remember this:
You are worthy.
You are brave.
You are loved.
Even when you donât feel like it.
Especially when you donât feel like it.
And in case nobody has reminded you latelyâŠ
Iâm proud of you.
Not just for everything youâve survived.
But for the woman you continue to be.
With love, patience, and a little bit of that signature sarcasm,
Me. đđ»
đ” Music Playing: âI Am Lightâ â India.Arie
Because sometimes we need a reminder that we are so much more than the experiences, struggles, and circumstances that have shaped our lives.
This song feels like a conversation with the parts of myself that sometimes forget their own value.
A reminder that my diagnoses donât define my worth.
My difficult days donât erase my accomplishments.
And the things Iâve lost donât diminish everything that remains.
I am still me.
And that is enough.
đ Reflection Corner: Give Yourself the Grace You Give Others
Iâve spent so much of my life reminding other people of their worth that sometimes I forget to remind myself.
And maybe Iâm not the only one.
Maybe youâve been so busy being strong for everyone else that youâve forgotten youâre allowed to have difficult days, too.
Maybe youâve measured your value by what youâve accomplished instead of recognizing the person you are.
Or maybe you simply need someone to remind you that youâre doing better than you think.
So today, Iâm leaving us both with this:
đ You are worthy when youâre thriving. You are worthy when youâre struggling. And you are worthy on the days when simply making it through feels like enough.
You donât have to earn your worth.
You already have it.
And sometimes the bravest thing you can do is believe that.
đŹ Letâs Talk About It
When was the last time you gave yourself the same encouragement you so freely give to others?
Have you ever struggled to recognize your own worth when illness, exhaustion, or lifeâs challenges made you feel like you werenât doing enough?
And if you could write one sentence to remind yourself of your value today, what would it say?
Iâd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
Because sometimes the words we need to hear most are the ones we need to learn to say to ourselves.
đ Remember: Your worth isnât determined by your productivity, your health, or how much you can endure. You are worthy simply because you are you.
đ Until Next TimeâŠ
Living with chronic illness has taught me that strength isnât always about pushing forward. Sometimes itâs about recognizing when we need compassion, rest, and a reminder that we matter.
This journey isnât always easy, and I certainly donât have everything figured out.
But Iâm learning.
Iâm growing.
And Iâm giving myself permission to be human along the way.
One day. One lesson. One laugh. One imperfectly beautiful moment at a time.
Welcome to The Dual Diagnosis Diaries | Kiaâs Journey, where life isnât always predictable, the lessons arenât always easy, and sometimes the most important person we need to show up for is ourselves.
With love, laughter, and a whole lot of grace, đđ»
Kia Lorice
Founder âą Author âą Advocate âą Future Wellness Coach
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries
đ thedualdiagnosisdiaries.com
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