Bell's Palsy

I was planning to write a trip recap post, but I'll save that for later this week on a day when I feel like I have more margin/downtime for that!

Once again, happy 2-22-2022!! ❤

Important Happy News:  I received a fantastic response email from Eddie Kaufholz this morning, and it definitely made my day!! =)  I miss the weekly updates from him and Annie, but yay for reruns. lol

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And in other news, a friend I knew from BattleCreek currently has Bell's Palsy.  She posted some photos and videos talking about her experience and the emotional struggle of it.  We messaged back and forth a bit a bit about all of that, and it's been helpful for me to really stop and think about it from an adult perspective.  I'm so grateful that she had the courage to post photos and share her story... seeing other people respond to her with empathy and validation rather than avoidance or confusion and awkward laughter has been helpful for me too (not quite the experience I had surrounded by freshmen in high school, as you might imagine).  I had Bell's Palsy at age 8 and then again at age 15.  The onset is sudden - you go to bed smiling normally, and when you wake up and brush your teeth, you can immediately tell something is off. 

Thus far, no one can pinpoint the cause or promise a cure.  Somehow, the 7th cranial nerve gets inflamed, and it paralyzes half of the facial muscles, meaning my eyes would dry out because I couldn't blink correctly, and my mouth was literally incapable of smiling.  It would make anyone feel a bit self-conscious and awkward, but I believe that's amplified in high school for obvious reasons.  Why I chose that as my one summer to try Falls Creek Camp, I'll never know - no, it was probably me hoping to feel closer to God there - I tend to press in during hard seasons, and I'm glad for that pattern.  

I have very few pictures from that summer because I mostly tried to avoid the camera.  The middle photo is me with a couple friends at Falls Creek... I just look caught off guard, but I was more aware of the camera than anyone else in that room.  The anxiety was real.

This is at a football game that fall when my smile was gradually starting to come back.  I was pushing those muscles for all they were worth, but I couldn't smile as brightly or fully as all my friends.

In the video Amanda posted today, she started crying a little as she talked about missing her smile and said, "When I feel happy, I don't look happy."

That's one of the strangest parts of it.  Your ability to physically express joy is stifled.  Then sometimes you worry about looking awkward and choose to suppress the good side of your smile to keep it more even, and all of that is pulling your mental health down.

So first off, I want to validate for myself that Bell's Palsy was a really hard experience.  I sometimes minimized and downplayed it as a survival strategy back then, but I don't have to anymore.  There will always be people who have it worse off in life, but you're allowed to feel your own pain, and you don't have to make comparisons or minimize what you're going through.  The fear that it would be permanent was very real.  People laughing and making jokes about the TENS unit or about looking like a stroke victim or whatever else was never funny and always hurtful.  (Moreso than any of them intended, I'm certain.)  None of it was my fault or something I could have stopped or controlled.  I'm incredibly grateful for the people who were kind... for Lynda Woolard's advice that helped start the healing process... and for God healing me and bringing my smile back.  That doesn't change the fact that there were some painful internal and external effects that continue to this day, and it all matters.  I didn't have the language or the self-confidence to handle it as well back then, but I did my best, and I didn't crawl into a hole and avoid everyone.  As an introvert who preferred to blend in, I tried to gracefully deal with the unwanted extra attention, answering a myriad of insensitive questions from well-meaning friends.  And I went to a freaking church summer camp, and that was brave.  Way to go, 10th grade Lindsey!!  

If I could go back and talk to her, I would hug her and speak words of courage and confidence!!  I would tell her it's okay to be sad or to feel embarrassed, but that life has too much meaning to let herself get stuck there.  I would smile as brightly as I can today and assure her that it's only temporary... and that this whole experience will forever increase her empathy and ability to comfort people with similar struggles.  I would remind her that she is loved and valuable, that her worth doesn't depend on her appearance, and that other people aren't thinking about her as much or as often as she was worried about.  And I would tell her to be proud of that half-smile and to never suppress her joy or her pain in an effort to please others or present a certain image!!!

Dear 10th-grade Lindsey, 

You are precious to God.  Your joy is valid, your pain is valid, and your heart matters!  You are loved, your life has great purpose, and Jesus is walking with you every step of the way!  You're stronger than you realize at this point, and you are going to be just fine.  I see you.  I believe in you.  And someday, you're going to change the world!

With love,

❤ 38-year-old Lindsey