At what point do you give up? When do you just stop with doctors and accept that this is how you were supposed to be? I think I’ve hit that point. I am tired of the doctors visits, the therapy appointments, the never ending supply of splints (I mean at this point I could open my own medical supply store). I am sick of the laughing and the guessing, the 11 scars I have all over my hand. I’m sick of the looks I get when I can’t grab something with my left hand, and I’m sick of spilling something almost everyday. I’m sick of looking at my beautiful engagement ring and thinking how much better it would look on a normal hand. I hate that I can’t do Haileys hair and I can’t hold Jim’s hand. I can’t do the dishes, or laundry or grocery shop. But the thing I hate most is the anxiety it causes me to constantly worry about how to make it better. I’ve come to the realization that maybe it’s just not going to ever be normal again and I’m ok with that. It’s time to move...
My life-long battle with Dystonia