I miss me. I think that's why I find it annoying when people tell me I look good. My face is puffy from steroids and my hair is short and curly. When I look in the mirror I am always surprised by the person I see and it's very disconcerting. I don't look like me, at least not the me I remember. I've been told I look good in short hair (and yes, I know it's a compliment) but never in a million years would I have ever cut my hair this short. I liked my long hair. The Kahan thinks I have body dysmorphic disorder a psychological condition where the affected person is excessively concerned about and preoccupied by a perceived defect in his or her physical features. I hope she was kidding.
It's more than just the physical me that I miss. I miss the me that had more days when I felt good than days when I feel ill. I miss the me that was spontaneous and adventurous and could stay up past ten.
In mentioning this recently to a couple of friends and family, all have reassured me that I am still here, I am still me. While that is somewhat true I have come to realize that the person I was is to some extent gone. I don't think you can have an illness like this and not have it change you in some way. It's not all bad but it's different, I'm different. You see while I hope for a time when I will have more good days than bad, when I can be more spontaneous and adventurous I now know those days are a gift, not the norm. I miss that norm. I miss me.