Sitting in the dark hallway in the middle of the night, back pressed against the wall, feet on the hard, cold floor. How much longer will this last? How much longer can I last? I didn’t know how to face tomorrow, but first I had to get through the excruciating night.
Moments of my chronic illness journey flash through my mind as I type, nestled here in my bean bag chair.
The first symptoms. Struggling to get down the stairs to tell my mom that I couldn’t see very well. Pointing my distended belly out to her, impressed that I’d been sick for a whole month.
The disbelieving doctors, and the look on their faces. They thought I was just being a dramatic teenage girl. It was just stress and it would pass.
The other incredible doctors, working persistently to diagnose me, trying treatment after treatment. Asking questions, doing research, believing my own opinions about my own body.
The loss of friendships. Staring at empty chats, hoping for them to be online, hoping for responses, hoping to be seen. And then . . . giving up. Not having the energy to pursue those losses as I got sicker and sicker.
Staring in the mirror at my illness-ridden teenage body, one tear slipping quietly down my cheek I just want to be pretty.
The diagnosis. My dad bringing me a teddy bear as we danced around the house, excited and relieved to finally have an answer, finally a direction to go. There we so much we didn’t yet know.
The endless “on a scale of 1 to 10 . . .” questions.
The near-death experience. Watching detached as my body writhed and twitched and I didn’t really care. My mom spoon-feeding me. My eventual realization of just how close to death I was—no one needed to tell me.
The hope of healing and then the flare . . . after flare . . . after flare. Frustrated tears. Guilt. Shame. Confusion. Grief. Anger.
And for me, eventually beginning to regain my life. My doctor’s messy handwriting declaring my “return to play” on my medical chart. The fear of healing. The scars left behind. The imposter syndrome.
I don’t know what moments stand out to you from your health journey. I don’t know what moment you find yourself in right now.
But this year, we want to meet you where you are, no matter where that is.
That’s right, we’re officially announcing our Diamonds 2024 conference! To celebrate our five-year anniversary, we are hosting a special conference March 15-17, all about the different steps of the chronic illness journey.
Diamonds 2024 Topics
- 7 Years Later: What Having an Incurable Disorder is Teaching Me about Living Well
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How To Live An Abundant Life With a Chronic Illness
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My Illness Does Not Define Me
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Riding the Pendulum: Trusting Our Unknowns To The God Who Knows
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The Journey to Forgiveness
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When Your Loved One Suffers from Chronic Pain and Illness
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Embracing a Different Future
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Tending Hope + Health in Every Season of Chronic Illness
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Personal Bible Study: Pursuing the Knowledge of Christ No Matter Where You Are in Your Chronic Illness Journey
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The Journey is the Reward
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When Your Body Starts To Heal
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Journeying With Others Who “Get It”
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Wait for the Lord: Trusting the Author with our unfinished story
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Tents, Temples, and the City of God: A Biblical Theology of the God Who Journeys with Us
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The Sufficiency of Christ: the Key to Acceptance and Joy
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A Journey of Worth, A Passage to Peace
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Overcoming Depression and Anxiety
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Facing Roadblocks On Your Chronic Illness Journey
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Finding New Community When You’re Chronically Ill
Diamonds 2024 Speakers
Heather M. Dixon
Tasha Marie Brown
Timothy C. Gunnells
Erica Baldwin
Katherine French-Ewing
Nate Brooks
David Heflin
Rachel Marie Kang
Rachel Lundy
Tera Bradham DeNeui
S.G. Willoughby
Kate Brooks
Angela C Millen
Will Lundy
Chris & Nicole O’Meara
Michelle Kelso Kafer
Linda & Jen Barrick
Katerina B.
Hailey Hudson
Mark & Carley DenBoer
Who’s excited with me? Hit reply, and let me know which topic or speaker you’re most excited about!
