Something’s wrong, and that’s perfect

Every so often – read “almost every day, especially when I’m not doing so well” – I have thoughts of concern around the idea that there might be or that there is something wrong with me.

As I thought about this today and last night, it started to wonder, Well, so what?  So what if something’s wrong with me?  What does that even mean, anyway?  It had me consider that the whole concept of ‘something’s wrong’ is, in a way, utterly and totally made-up.  I think about the whole moth scenario, where the white moths all thrive in the snowy place, until the factory opens up, and soot is abundant, turning most of the snow gray…. at which point, the moth population slowly but surely turns almost entirely gray – the genetic mutation allowed for improved survival in the altered times, when snow was no longer white but gray.  By our standards, we could say that something was wrong with the gray moths, back when everything was white…, but none of them has a problem with that wrongness now, with everything being gray around them.

Basically, so something about me works differently than other people, or even than most people…, and, so what?  Why must I feel inferior or inadequate or lesser of a being because of it?  If my hormonal system doesn’t understand how to function superbly, does that make me a terrible human being, or a lame one, or even a non-human?  No.

For one thing, it is 100% in our nature as living beings to have mutations – differences, changes, seemingly inexplicable alterations – in our DNA and resulting bodies.  My body not working like the rest of humanity’s bodies is totally normal, scientifically speaking.  Female hormonal systems work this way, and mine just doesn’t – it works differently than the average female hormonal system.  It is statistically abnormal…, but abnormal statistics don’t make me a lesser being.

For a second thing, perhaps this is just a way of my DNA, my body, preparing for those unexpected factories to move into town and turn all the snow gray… perhaps they are preparing me for the unknown contingencies in life.  I have no idea what those scenarios would be to have any of these alterations from the average in my body’s function make sense…, but it somehow wouldn’t surprise me if, someday, whether I’m still alive then or not, these alterations all do make sense.

I’m still a bit nervous about the fact that, well, part of my body kind of seems to be screwing the rest of my body over, by not taking care of itself…, however, I like this idea of considering that it is merely a natural genetic mutation, a gray moth among the whites.  Plus, I have found various ways to help those struggling parts of my body to function better, and, though I don’t know quite how it all will look down the line, at least for now, I know what works best so far, and I can stick with doing that.

I certainly have had many a struggle and even a good handful of breakdowns around the fact that ‘my body isn’t normal’…, so I hope that this shift in perspective proves to be a powerful one.  I want to feel and be okay and comfortable with my altered-from-average body.  Anyway, plenty of people who had altered-from-average bodies ended up being spectacular at things other people couldn’t be spectacular at doing.  A woman with no arms can use her legs and feet like most people do hands.  A blind person can hear things most people don’t even notice.  Several genius-types couldn’t function socially or in schools very well, and some not at all.  I don’t know – not yet, anyway – for what my alteration from average allows in my life, but I am going to keep an eye out for it now, now that I’m thinking about it this way.  Perhaps there is something to this idea, even with my hormonal system’s situation…  I shall observe and consider, and hopefully see.  🙂

So, going forward, I shall remember – do what I can as I get adjusted to the idea, anyway – that something is wrong with me, and that that is totally perfect.  Seriously: perfect.  🙂

Post-a-day 2020

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