Living with dystonia is like carrying a weight that never lets up. It’s an invisible anchor, pulling at every effort I make to live as normally as possible. The struggle with my body is relentless. Muscles that refuse to obey, spasms that hit without warning — dystonia doesn’t care about my plans or my family’s needs. And sometimes, neither can I. As much as I want to be t he one who takes care of my family — to provide for them, protect them, and be there in all the ways they deserve — dystonia has a way of keeping me from doing that. It steals time, energy, and ability, leaving me to watch as others step in to handle what I can’t. No matter how much they tell me I’m not a burden, there are days when that truth feels distant and hard to hold onto. It’s not just the physical limitations. It’s the emotional toll of knowing that I can’t be the person I want to be for them. Every time I need help with something simple, like opening a jar or getting through a task, I feel l
an aspiring Poet, Thoughts from the Heart, Living with Mental and Dystonic Issues; and an avid Southern Gospel Music fan.