A common theme among people with multiple sclerosis is to refer to themselves as warriors. It is a term I respect. Every day with this disease can be like a battle. It is a battle most days to simply get out of bed. Some days every single step is a battle. I understand the reference to being a warrior. Even though I understand it, it is not a term that I have ever been able to personally relate to. Maybe it is because I do not really see it so much as a fight as I do a daily struggle. I struggle to walk and raise my hand higher than my chest. I struggle with fatigue. I suppose the idea is that every time I struggle to lift my foot instead of letting myself succumb to a wheelchair is a win in the fight. I do not want to fight, though. I am the weakest and most tired I have ever been in my life. Struggling and fighting only makes me weaker and more tired. Warrior I am not. I am simply a person living with MS.

I did not realize until recently that there seems to be a big divide among the MS community in regard to the word. Some people love referring to themselves as a warrior. A few minutes on social media and you will see the hashtag #mswarrior on more posts than not. I love seeing others that I am cheering for motivated by the term. Calling themselves a warrior and taking on the persona of a fighter really seems to kick some people into gear. It is also good motivation to keep fighting. Warriors are fierce. Warriors are brave. They do not stop fighting until the battle is won. That seems to be where my disconnect happens.

There is no battle to win. There is no cure for the disease I am fighting. I can change my diet and fight against fatigue. I can exercise to fight to keep my mobility. I can take supplements and administer injections. These are things I have to do to keep my life going. I do not do them because I want to. I do them because I have to. I am not brave, nor fierce. Bravery implies that you have a choice. I have no choice. I am simply trying to survive.

I know that sounds horribly morbid. Some of you are reading this and feeling sorry for me. Some of you reading this are shaking your heads and saying to yourself “you just do not see the bigger picture, Shanna”. I can hear my therapist in my head now telling me that I actually do have a choice. He is saying I have already chosen. He is saying that I have a choice to exercise or not. He is saying I have a choice to get out of bed. I do not view it that way. If I do not get out of bed and go to work, then I will lose my means of supporting myself. I have no one to do this for me. Again, I have no choice.

One of the biggest struggles I have had to overcome since my diagnosis is how much the relationship between my mind and body has changed. I would have no qualms about calling myself a warrior prior to MS. My body constantly went the extra mile. If I pushed my limits, my body listened. If I was fifty miles into an endurance mountain bike race, my mind would give the pep talk to keep pedaling and my body would respond. If I was fifteen miles into a hike, my mind would convince my legs to keep putting one foot in front of the other. It was rare that my body ever let me down. When it did, I would fix it. Everything was in cahoots. My mind and body functioned together. I knew what my body wanted. I knew what it needed and how it would respond to different circumstances. It was consistent and predictable. I was a well-oiled machine. I was physically complete.

One of the things I hear consistently from well-meaning people, even my therapist, is to be kind to myself. I have always shrugged that advice off because I am kind to myself. I get mad. I mean, I get really mad, but not at myself or my body. If I am floundering around on the floor unable to stand back up from where I fell, my cursing is not directed at my failing body. My cursing and anger are directed at the disease. I am not mad at my body, I am mad at MS for doing this to my body. I forgive my body. I forgive my legs for not holding me up or carrying me like they use to.

I have heard MS warriors make comments about the fight against their bodies. I could never view my own struggle in that manner. This body has done so much for me. I feel it struggling. I feel it wanting to do what my mind wills it to. I do not want to fight my body. I want to fight with my body and for my body. I feel the double-edged sword. I want to be angry at the part of my body that turned on itself and led to this disease. But, I feel like that is the equivalent of getting angry at a new puppy that just did not know any better. I am no angrier about my immune system than I am about my arms and legs. My body was an innocent bystander to the stress I subjected it to. That is no reason to be angry at it.

I suppose it all goes back to mindset. I read an article recently about cancer patients. The premise was that we should not refer to what they are going through as a fight with cancer or as a battle with cancer. Imposing that you are going into battle gives a sense of war and someone winning or losing. Losing the battle could implicate the person did not try or fight hard enough. Truly, for a lot of us with cancer or a chronic illness, there is no fight. We have been forced into a situation and are simply doing what we have to do to live with the disease. I will never wage a war on myself.

One of the first things I learned about the MS community is that it is an extremely supportive environment and a judgment-free zone. I have had no qualms or hang-ups discussing my diagnosis with other people with MS. At no point prior in my life would I have ever been so open about my deteriorating physical or mental health to strangers on the internet. At no point prior to MS would I have ever been comfortable asking strangers about their health issues. Even though each and every one of us struggles a little differently with the disease, we still understand each other.

I support everyone who refers to themself as a warrior. I support anyone who has decided to wage war on the disease. I also support those who refuse to call it a fight or battle. We all go through things in our way and in our own time. I do not feel like a warrior right now, but in the next few months, I might wage a war on everything in my path. If that time comes, I know plenty of warriors who will have my back.