At the time of writing, I have been diagnosed with secondary Addison’s Disease or adrenal insufficiency for just over two and a half years. These two and a half years came after eleven years of ill-health that was both unexplained and, most frustratingly, not adequately explored. In this time, I went from eighteen to twenty-nine. In many ways, the ages twenty-nine, thirty and now thirty-one (as of two days ago) are my first authentic flavour of health I have had whilst existing in an adult body. My aim in writing this post was to spend time reflecting on my health and ultimately my life, which has progressed since being diagnosed two and a half years ago. This felt especially necessary given my last post of this kind was written just after my diagnosis. I feel hesitant to start, however. I remember how easy that previous post was to write. It was simple, really. This ease came from just how clear I was on my feelings. It was joyous to be able to feel the sharpness of my brain, to wake without the sensation of immediate crushing fatigue. This post is a little harder to begin.

Recently, I’ve learned something transformative. I’ve learned that life is designed to be engaged with, not endured.