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| 1/2 of my awesome cabin. |
- I've been absent because there's a lot going on in my life (like marathoning through another season of this television show on netflix).
- This weather has been hard on my body, so I just couldn't bothering getting on the internet between my many naps that I've had to take (ignore the fact that I spent several hours scrolling through mundane posts on facebook and instagram last night).
- I can't go because my mom says I can't (oh wait, that's not a relevant excuse for this situation. oops).
- I've been absent because of who I am as a person.
Now, that that's over with- let's jump right in.
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| There's a mudpit there, man. Of course it's amazing. |
Someone recently said to me "look at you, you're in so much pain all the time and you never complain." Confession: that's an untrue statement. There's plenty of times that you'll find me curled up, whining "whyyyyyyyyyyyyy." There's just some of those days, and they aren't my proudest moments, but they happen (more often than I'd like to admit insert blushing/ashamed emoji*). However, sometimes God answers my whining of woe-is-me-why-why-why, with a 'this is why, now stop complaining before I give you something to complain about.'
Even though I've always been surrounded by amazing, strong people who have conquered through chronic illnesses, it was still a selfishly lonely thing when I'd been first diagnosed. It felt like no one understood exactly what I was going through, and again I spent plenty of time whining, and why-ing. God must have been real tired of my shit, because he through me into an unforgettable experience that I'm incredibly thankful for now. Camp Acheaway is a catchy little name for a week-long summer camp at a facility nestled in beautiful north Georgia funded by supporters of the Arthritis Foundation (y'all rock) for children who have been affected by some form of arthritis or related joint disease. There's been plenty of times that I've mentioned how much camp means to me, but it kinda deserved it's own big-huge shoutout, since I'm currently working on filling out my paperwork to become a counselor.
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| Back-in-the-day. |
2009. That was the first year I'd gone, and the only year that I'd gone as a camper. To say I'm awkward and anxious in new situations is an understatement. I was petrified, and since I'm always mildly anxiety-ridden that week I had been borderline panic-attack mode (I've always been 'one of those kids'). There was only one person I knew there, and she would be in another cabin as a counselor, and I'd never gone to a sleep-away camp or been away from home for more than two days alone (again, I was one-of-those-kids who had separation anxiety as a child, don't judge me). However, after that week I'd found something that I love and friends that I still keep in touch with even now. But, that's just where this story starts.
After that, I'd gotten the opportunity to be a counselor-in-training, which is pretty much the camper program 2.0 except now you are in charge of human life other than your own- which is pretty terrifying considering I can barely keep myself alive most days. However, I've always wanted to help someday, and do something that mattered even just a little bit, and camp rocks so I said 'what the hell'. Before that I'd spent so much time complaining endlessly (and my disease, unfortunately, had just given me more ammunition to work with), but when I was faced with children in joint splints and wheelchairs and 32 pills a day. These children all had the biggest smiles, the biggest hearts, and the greatest outlooks on life. Sometimes you'd hear the typical chronic illness lingo out of these children, 'today is a little hard, it's a flare day' out of these kids, but overall they were consistently full of life and thankfulness and laughter. It was the biggest slap in the face to me.
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| 'It made a difference to that one'- The Starfish Story. |
Everyone has a moment or experience in there life where life shows up to say "duh, this is what you are supposed to be doing with your life, idiot." That week was my blinking neon sign, my duh moment, my should have had a v8, hit you in the head with the obvious moment. Between rock climbing (eventually I shall conquer you) and canoeing (many of horror stories with canoeing), I found that I fell in love with the excitement and joyfulness of these children.
In the time before that week, I'd spent a lot of time complaining either about my disease or life in general instead of actually trying to change any of those things. I'd spent a lot of time saying 'this is unfair' simply because it affected me.
After that week, I spent a lot of time saying 'this is unfair' because for the first time ever, I realized how truly unfair it was for a second grader to barely be able to walk, play sports, run, jump, etc. without help and a ton of medicine. Suddenly, I knew I needed to do everything I could to not let another kid suffer through this (but, I'm not Wonder Woman yet so baby steps). Since then, I've volunteered several times with the Arthritis Foundation and raised $800+ during a Walk to Cure Arthritis charity walk, and everyday I strive to raise awareness for this disease because one day I hope people will be able to say, "let me tell you about this disease I used to have. It f---ing sucked, but now it doesn't exist"
Even though there hasn't been that day yet, it's still refreshing to be apart of something that allows kids to forget about all they have going on in their lives, and for once just be kids. It is a small (selfish) little reminder that I'm actually doing something worthwhile in my life, every now and then. It's amazing feeling to have a child come up to you and say 'thank you' for just doing something you love. It's amazing to have a little girl you met four years ago say "you had such a huge impact on me, you actually listened and cared and understood." It's amazing to be apart of something bigger. It's amazing to be reminded that I'm worthwhile, and important- even just in the eyes of a eight year old. In fact, in the eyes of those eight year old children, for a week I'm the coolest person they have met (in every other situation, I'm the opposite of the coolest person anyone has met).
Camp Acheaway has captured pieces of my heart, and I don't want them back.
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Hugs + Kisses,
Julia.
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We cannot all do great things, but we can do small things with great love.
-Mother Theresa
