As far as coping methods go, Netflix tends to be one of the more popular options in my case.

Is this necessarily good? Hmmmm probably not. But over the last few months I’ve taken a great interest in the documentary side of Netflix, which makes me feel a little more productive. It also makes me feel sophisticated and interested in the happenings of the world around me. Generally, I’m most interested in not doing math and watching TV. Just being honest.

Occasionally tho I find myself an award-winning documentary, and it ends up rocking my world. The most recent subject being the Netflix original titled “My Beautiful Broken Brain.” In this beautifully done story we follow Lotje Sodderland, a successful, popular, outgoing, 34-year-old woman as she recovers from a near fatal stroke. Before the accident Lotje was a successful film maker, and a brilliant writer. Working with some of the best names in her industry.

Because of the location of the hemorrhage in her brain, Lotje loses her ability to speak, read, and write. She also undergoes massive personality changes, and we watch her and her family struggle with the reality that she may not ever be the same person. Shot mostly on Lotje’s phone, she logs her progress and her thoughts as she regains speech and wrestles with her new brain.

We see her wrestle with her identity as she loses her most remarkable characteristics, her quick tongue, and her affinity for words. We come alongside her as she weeps, head in her hands, trying to read flash cards made for elementary students. She moves in with her mother for the first time since she was 18, and we fight just as she fights with the reality that she is completely dependent on her mother. Once more a small child.

In a truly remarkable twist we join her as she chooses not to fight her changed identity, but rather embrace it. In ways so small as the way her vision changes, and creates more vibrant colors on the right side of her view. In ways incredibly weighty, like not being the witty one with words on the tip of her tongue. Now more thoughtful and observant. Processing things totally differently than she ever had before.

Lotje leaves us with her incredibly graceful personal findings, speaking fully and articulately, over a year after her stroke. She observes that she will never be the person she was before the stroke, and states her gratitude for the way she has grown and changed. Her newfound respect from learning to fall in love with herself all over again.

While Lotje’s stroke is far off from many of our lives, she has a message that is applicable to every person on the planet.

Circumstances change us, the things that happen in our lives will shape us. Sometimes the changes are drastic. For example; illness, Family death, abuse. Other times they are small and gradual changes like a new job, or a circle of friends. Regardless of good or bad, we are presented with the reality that we are constantly shifting and changing and growing.

And really, if we aren’t growing and changing, we’re doing something /wrong/. How ridiculous would it be if I was the same person as I was 5 years ago? If I was no different than the 12 year old Keira, now as a 17 year old Keira, people would have some real concerns.

Change is a reality unescapable on this side of eternity. But, cool secret, we kind of have a little bit of control over it.

What? I can control my destiny?! Sweet!!

Not quite. But hear me out. We are presented with two options every day of our lives. We are presented these options when we get the call we’ve been dreading, we are presented with these options when the urge to cut yourself is stronger than ever.

We are presented with these options when our job falls through, when the relationship you’ve placed your identity in falls to pieces. When your abuser enters back into your life, or when the people closest to you wound you with their words and their actions.

We can choose God, or we can choose isolation.

It seems such a no brainer but it’s ROUGH dudes, it’s rough fo sho.

Shortly after I was pulled out of school, I began attending a small group that met every week. The adult leaders became some of my closest mentors and most valued supporters, I learned more about the character of Jesus, and they encouraged me to open up, to ask big questions and to wrestle with God.

While I had an amazing experience with the hosts, over the course of nearly two years the students became incredibly hostile towards me, and the people I had opened up to and considered a gift in my time of loneliness became borderline abusive. Attacking my character to my face and picking apart everything I said, even going so far as to physically pursue my boyfriend. Because of a simple crush on a boy I was going out with, an entire small group of students, all older than me, constantly made sure I knew their disdain for me.

I had been so positive that this small group was a gift from God in a great time of isolation. The way these people treated me absolutely shattered my confidence in God, and my confidence in myself. Because of this period in my life I developed crippling social anxiety, and have fought tooth and nail against God’s push for me towards community.

While casually researching my own illness for a speaking opportunity, I stumbled across a new reality about my conditions that the doctors hadn’t deemed necessary to bring to my attention. Source after source I looked into confirmed that chronic conditions are untreatable, unpreventable, and more often than not affect the individual for the remainder of their life.

I was thrown into this reality completely suddenly, and with no warning. I was relaxing in my jammies, feeling hopeful and snuggling with my kitty when suddenly my future collapsed in a matter of minutes. My fears of being behind and incapable for the remainder of my life seemed all but confirmed. My dreams of traveling and living a fast-paced life of adventure crushed into something unrecognizable. The thought of having to give up opportunity after opportunity for the rest of my life, while exhausting myself just to get by feels written in stone.

These things have torn my life apart and challenged me in ways I never dreamed possible. I haven’t felt “put together” or “on track” for as long as I can remember. It has never been easy and it has never felt beautiful.

But I have come to choose God. I choose Him every morning when I wake up and think “yeah tbh I’d rather die than get out of bed today.” I choose Him when I am overwhelmed with emotion and my knees give out. I choose Him when I see no chance of a future, I choose Him when I watch my dreams go down the drain.

And because I have chosen Him I have found something unexplainable. I have found myself free of hatred for my body. I have found myself filled with compassion and forgiveness towards those who have wounded me. I have found quiet in the chaos of my mind, and have found rest and renewal in the constant uphill battle.

Because I choose God I no longer feel hopeless, cursed, and alone all of the time.

When anxiety tries to take control of our limbs, or anger control of our tongue, we can choose God.

When fear cripples and illness prevails, we can choose God.

Now choosing God does not mean that things will be perfect, that our strains will vanish. It doesn’t mean perfection or ultimate karma.

I still have days where I am filled with anger, I feel hopeless and defeated.

But that isn’t my life. And it doesn’t have to be your life either.

He offers us relief. He offers us peace, and love, restoration and encouragement. Doesn’t that seem so much better than being alone?

I think it does.

Making that choice isn’t easy. And it isn’t a one-time deal. Every day, every feeling we feel, every pain we experience is an opportunity to choose God, our friend, our savior.

And when we choose God, He gives us strength to take on the day. He gives us hope to see our futures as open books rather than scrap paper destined for the rubbish bin. He gives us Grace for our bodies, for our mistakes. He gives us love so overwhelming we forget our mess in the presence of His glory.

And that changes us.

Lotje chose to accept that life would never be the same. Rather than ruin herself she chose to wear a new pair of glasses, and view things differently. She chose to fall in love with reality rather than to fight it. And ultimately it became her success.

I don’t know if I’m in love with my life right now, I don’t know if I’ll ever be. But I know that for now, this is my life. And if God can make it something, if God can fill me with Love and Goodness, I will choose Him.

And I will continue to choose Him for the rest of my life.

acceptance anxiety brain chronic illness community courage depression faith hope