I Will Not Be Moved
I'm tired. Tired of the struggle day after day. I feel like I'm in the in between space of growth and everything that led me to this point. I wish I was never in the wheelchair. Getting out of it for good is one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I am determined to do it. Even if that means crying while doing my exercises. I haven't given up, but I am tired. I need God's breath to breathe on me again. This isn't meant to be a depressing post, but just an honest account of where I'm at. To win the mental battle, I have to constantly celebrate the small victories. Just the other day, I walked 7 times instead of 6 in my hallway at home. I'm challenging myself to do more and go further. I told my mom, "It seems like I have such a long way to go to get to where I want to be." She always reminds me, "Look at how long you were down for." I was bedridden 2-3 years, but I've been in the wheelchair for almost 14 years. I just have