The harder path

WhatsApp Image 2017-11-11 at 16.25.50It has been a long time that I have not been writing. It is hard to do it. Some years ago I wrote a book. Mosaic the path in between. Ironically my in between is very hard. It is hard for me to read, imagine writing. It makes me think that the brain has many different zones. As you can see, it makes me remember things that I knew and are now blocked.

As you see there is a huge path. And it took a while and loads of problems for them to find out what I have. I’ll tell you. But I’ll tell how it was the path to me.

It is very difficult to. I try anyway, when Fernanda, my cousin said she feels I would be able. She had not seen me in a while…. Like many don’t have an idea of how I am.
I write but I ask Andre my husband, engineer, and more important “Great companion in any situation.

I’ll start by saying that after going back to Asia, and I dreamed to go to Burma. The first time I tried, I broke my foot and had to go back to Brazil. The second time, as I was getting my visa, I had an epileptic attack and was taken to hospital, was induced to a coma, then my parents came to pick me up. It took me a while to recover.

As I got better, I started walking, climbing mountains, and met AndrĂ©. We went to Venezuela, Chile, made friends. We got married, to my party came Leila and Alondra. Both of them are deep friends, they lived with me in different countries. When I couldn’t speak, they helped me to speak in french, in english and spanish.

Being in coma, and losing my ability to speak, made me realize how important it was that I had known different languages. It made me realize that, if you want to have a child, you should let him learn different languages. I say it because I was in coma, I lost my language, the only possibility of speaking was due to the fact that I had learned different languages as a child.

My dear friend Leila was killed, and losing her and Dr. Getulio, moved me so much that I once again ended up in hospital, this time they thought I had Cerebral Vasculitis. As I told before, from there I bought tickets to go to Thailand and BURMA đŸ™‚

I was told I could die. I said I preferred to die in the path that in hospital. I went alone. It was amazing. Burma was even better than I imagined AND I did so many paths. I came back to Brasil. And we moved to Peru. Andre was working there. And I was in my free path to meet people, make friends. As usual found the Chinese, and the path of Tibet.

Well this time the path started to be blocked. I Came back to Brasil and went to a famous doctor which was expensive and said I Had nothing. I did not believe. I stayed in Brasil, because I felt I was not well.

Now, it was told to me, I do not remember many of my months. I am told I stood up, I sat, I didn’t speak, I can barely walk anymore. I am carried to hospital. Once again, I am induced to coma. This time, it was for twenty days. Made me think of what I have learned of the brain.

As I came back to my house, it is not really me. I could not walk, not talk, nor remember. It does not seem nothing of me. I can not remember songs, people, books, anything about religions. All I remember was action and reaction. I need more than ever help with everything. You have no idea how hard it is for me to write now. I have the whole time someone editing… not someone, Andre who have always helped me. Being him always asking to not be credited, but incentivizing me to be independent.

Now last time I saw my wonderful Doctor dr. Karen says: Wow you are back!!!! I ask Please tell me what is the name of what I have!

Autoimmune Encephalitis

That is my path, My disease is very rare, and in my case, it is myself who attacks me. And the truth is that we don’t know, I don’t know how it happened.
I’m honest to say that it is beyond hard to explain what I feel. I feel enormously thankful to my grandmother, to AndrĂ©, to my parents, and to every single friend of mine who has supported me, in spite of how close or far they are.

As hard as this disease is, how difficult it is for me to do all that I did. How hard it is to let go so many things. Obliges me to, wanting or not, meditate and search for a meaning.

Of all that I have to say is that I am thankful, even for this disease, because it allowed me to meet people who go through hard lives, but above all, it makes me learn to do what I do. All I say to you who read me, give value to what you have, to the person that is next to you. Take your time inside.

It made me think with the little capacity I had, as hard as it is, made me remember, we all search for happiness in distractions. When we loose so many abilities, we realize the hardest path is inside of us. It is where happiness is, just like sadness.

 

P.S.:The path is hard, and I am trying to stay on the road. I just received a gift from my mother, who is in Africa. It is a beautiful frame. I looked and I’m moved, I call her. She tells me she bought it, and it comes from Burma. I am reminded of my complicated mind: where is Burma? Burma is Myanmar. In the past I knew the different stories, changes of names. But now I did not remember. I decided to write, to come back to the path, to stay strong. To remember all of us, that if we want happiness, in spite of how difficult it is, to accept our differences, to be thankful for what we have. And to always accept happiness, not the distraction, but really be where we are. I look at the gift of my mother that came from Burma. The country I tried a lot to go, and despite my disease, I went. And in every step it reminded me that the path is in the life of everybody. How we live, how we feel, depends simply of our decision to be compassionate, to be peaceful.

Lots of Love, thankfulness and a deep desire that everybody should always look at everything deeply thankful.