Someone told me today that I should write because I have a unique experience and perspective. Huh?

Frankly, I don’t feel unique.

Yes, we all have different life stories, different ways of looking at things, different things we like to do, different … well, just differences. We’re all unique.

I’m no more unique than the next person, nor is that person any more unique than me.

If I write it’s simply because I feel like writing — at least writing gives me someone to talk to — even if it’s just this computer screen.

And, if I’m going to write, then maybe I should have something to write about.

So … as I sit here pondering what she thinks makes me, or my perspective, “unique” … I have to figure out what’s “uniquely” and authentically me.


I’m short. Billions of people are short.

I’m a woman. Trillions of people are women.

I live in the U.S. (currently) as do many many other people.

I’m originally from Minnesota. That’s not unique except it means I’m accustomed to cold weather, giant mosquitos, and understand what “Minnesota Nice” means.

I’m a military wife. Most of my friends are military wives and many many more who aren’t my friends are military wives.

I was born with a chiari malformation. That’s a bit more unique as it’s a supposedly rare congenital malformation that makes the body go wonky and creates a whole host of issues — especially for people who experience head trauma.

I have a history of head trauma. Still not all that unique — even though it came from a combination of sports injuries, car accidents, and an abusive ex-husband. Whooped-di-doo.

I had two brain surgeries (posterior fossa decompressions) to try to fix the chiari malformation and some of the head trauma repercussions. That’s a bit more rare, but loads of people have brain surgery. Don’t they?

I have chronic, complex, and rare medical conditions that have left me “disabled” — which has been a bit “limiting” on life. Yes, that does give me a somewhat more “unique” perspective than the general population, but lots of people could say the same thing — many of us just don’t say anything because we’re often discouraged to do so. (Case in point, when I was on Facebook and would post about my chronic intractable migraine and the things I was thankful for in the midst of the pain, and a “friend” of mine told me that I needed to quit writing about my migraine because I was just bringing everyone down — she must have missed the part about the things I was thankful for in spite of suffering and somewhat because of what I was suffering. She’s one of the reasons I’m no longer on Facebook.)

I have fur-babies who I adore. So I suppose that makes me part of the fur-baby parent community πŸ˜‰ Not really all that unique — even though my fur-babies are the best!

I took up the adventure of learning to cook and bake when my life contracted to become not much bigger than the walls of my home. (My husband was deployed for the zillionth time, my doctors told me to give up driving — something about hemiplegic migraines springing up on me and P.O.T.S. causing me to pass-out fairly frequently was/is considered dangerous, grad school was given up as my body couldn’t cope with the demands of studying, and then the betrayal of someone I considered to be a dear friend sent me reeling socially causing me to pull out of all of my social commitments and give up social media; THUS I needed an adventure to go on. Being a reluctant couch potato isn’t my jam. I prefer activity and adventure. With a body that can’t keep up with life, I have to adjust life to suit my body. Silly body!)

I prefer to deal with life with a good sense of humor and the practice of being thankful; often being able to find the “silver lining” in a cloud — my cloud or yours. Supposedly that’s worthy of sharing. Maybe?

Or … maybe it’s the combination of all of it that makes me “uniquely me.”

Thing is … we all have our very own “uniquely me” we can share. That’s the beauty of getting to know peoples’ stories.

Anywho … yes, that’s one of my made-up words … you’re unique, I’m unique, we’re all unique. Be uniquely you, I’ll be uniquely me, and maybe we can share our stories, make each other laugh, and find all of the silver linings together.

And …Β  since I’m “uniquely me” I’ll write a bit at a time about the things I do on this reluctant couch potato’s many adventures — culinarily and otherwise (for I have an active imagination, love to keep learning new things, and have dreams of Ireland).

Till next time,


Biloxi Zoo

My handsome hubby and I on our first date.

About licijoymanship

I'm a work in progress--much like this blog. So expect this "about me" to change as I do ;-) I'm an energetic person by nature living in a body that lacks energy. I'm a person of movement struggling with a body that fails to move in the ways I want it to. I'm a person who loves to be social who lives a fairly secluded life, quite reluctantly, on this couch. Living with chronic, incurable, and rare medical conditions can be discouraging and lonely. When we share our stories and listen to the stories of others, we gain valuable insights that can bring encouragement on the darkest days, ideas for new treatment options, and primarily, feel a little less alone in our struggles. My life isn't following my Plan A, my Plan B, my Plan C, or probably even my Plan X. But it's my life and I'm trying to live it the best I can while struggling with Chronic Intractable Migraine, Familial Hemiplegic Migraine, the effects of two posterior fossa decompression surgeries for my Chiari Malformation, Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, PTSD, (likely) EDS, (undiagnosed) Chronic Fatigue, widespread pain, and some other yet unknown issue that has left a "pocket" in the artery that runs by my pituitary gland. It's lonely, discouraging, difficult, and the only way I get through it is with a good sense of humor, the practice of living thankfully, the ability to connect with other people, and the fur-babies who keep me getting out of bed one day at a time. Of great encouragement of course, is my loving, understanding, and patient husband. I'm the girl who loves to write and yet fails to do so for long periods of time. I intend to update this blog at least once a week, but with this failing body who knows if I'll be able to stick with it. And yes, I am a woman of deep faith, so if you stick with me here you may occasionally come across some of my thoughts on Scriptural topics, so feel free to skip those if you choose. My faith has helped to form my character and is part of who I am, but it's not the only thing in my life that people can relate to and find encouragement from. Just sayin'.

6 responses

  1. Hi fellow spoonie! I like your opinion on being unique, but also not. We are all different and needed in our own way. I also don’t use Facebook that much anymore because of the same reasons. It’s so great to see someone posting about their experiences with chronic illness! Definitely following 😊 I just started my own blog and am trying to do that as well. You never know whose opinion you might change. Gentle hugs!!


    • Hello, fellow spoonie πŸ™‚ I’ll check out your blog after I dive into my morning pot of coffee. I love that we’re all unique, it makes life so much more interesting and rich. If I’m honest, which I strive to be even when it’s inconvenient or painful, it has taken me years to come to terms with some of my limitations and I’ve grieved the active life I once had (and always thought I’d have). As I navigate these unknown waters — which seem to be full of rip tides, sharks, and other hazards — figuring out what direction each day will take can be an exhausting exercise in and of itself. In other words, how many spoons do I have that day, what is the best use of them, and is sharing about what I used those spoons for a worthwhile endeavor … as that also uses spoons πŸ˜‰ Anywho…. I need to go dive into that pot of coffee before I evaluate my spoons and if I even have any today after physical therapy yesterday. Ouch πŸ˜‰

      Liked by 1 person

      • I agree completely. I think that the hardest part of life is now knowing that you only have so much spoons. It took me so long to come to terms with and if I’m being honest, it still is hard. I hope you’re not hurting too much after physical therapy, I know that can be. Take it easy!


    • I’ll check out your blog after my pot of morning coffee πŸ™‚ My life is better after giving up Facebook — not simply because of the extra noise it introduced into my life — but because I kept finding myself comparing my life to the lives my friends and family posted (even if they only posted the “good” stuff). ❀

      Liked by 1 person

      • I get it. I hardly ever go on there for exactly that reason. I’m glad it’s helped you to stay away. Social media can be so nasty but what I love about the Chronic illness community, is it’s all about support and encouragement. This community rocks!