Empathy

I belong to a few online narcolepsy support groups. They have become an important part of my life within the short month I have known them. I am even more excited to attend my first MOONS meeting on May 31. Having the chance to connect with other narcoleptics is amazing. My sense of isolation has become overwhelming at times. While no one, not even another narcoleptic, can understand what I am experiencing, I relish the chance to interact with people who certainly can relate.

Of course, one need not have narcolepsy to understand hardship. The more I struggle through my condition, the more fully I come to realize that it is impossible to compare (or judge) pain and stress. My journey has been horrific at times, but has also brought me so many rewards and so much grace. I doubt anyone would chose my path, but is it any worse than those that others tread? How could I say that this experience is any harder or easier than yours? I can't. No one can. I live in this insane culture where we are driven to WIN, at all costs - even if it is suffering. Think how often in the United States people play the game of "my life is worse." So many of us want to dwell on our own sorrows simply to prove that we deserve the sympathy of those around us.

Maybe it is the frustration of knowing that my narcolepsy won't go away, or maybe it is the blessing of knowing that my narcolepsy won't go away, but I want out of the "my life is worse" game. Instead, I want to use my own struggle to build empathy with each person I encounter. Rather than spiralling in on my setbacks, I want to reach out to others and acknowledge their grief. I can't understand it, but by using my own difficulties as a lens, I can at least glimpse another's woundedness. In doing that we both can heal. We can validate each other and feel less loneliness. I am not talking about martyring myself and denying my suffering. Nor do I mean that what I have gone through is the same.

The point is I know what it is like to hurt. By recognizing, instead of challenging or questioning, someone else's gashes, I can help that person to be more whole. When I explain narcolepsy to friends, they often wonder how I can survive with it. For me it is not an option - I just do. My surprise is that I am more awed by their struggles. A student of mine once remarked that he, "would have just given up" if he faced the challenges that I have. But, that same student has overcome a litany of obstacles in four years transforming from a student highly likely to flunk out into one who will head off to a four year college and a vibrant future. I have a friend who had both kidneys fail before age 21. Another friend has faced tremendous depression and is finally getting help. A third battles personal demons that can only be controlled by intensive medication, yet that friend still fills the world with joy and art.

The list could go on and on. Are any of those people better or worse off than I? Who knows! Pain and suffering can't be judged. All I can know is my own life. Certainly, I can wallow in the delusion that no one has ever faced anything as awful as narcolepsy, at least not the way it impacts me. Or, I can deny that my narcolepsy has any impact at all on the way I move through this world, scoffing at those who would use illness as an excuse. Fortunately, I choose to accept each day for what it is. I am narcoleptic, and I struggle. That experience, though, affords me the opportunity to be grateful for all that I do have. I also can use my condition as a window into the struggles of those around me. When we can be with one another and simply recognize of basic humanness, then we all have a shot at starting to heal.