Nicole Tessela

I’m not much of a talker. I’ve never been much of one. The more I love and trust a person the less I’ll tell them. Some things are mine to deal with and sometimes I don’t want to hurt people. I know that that’s not always how it works but I also don’t like being emotional. I’m very emotional. I just hide it behind a porcelain smiling mask. It’s brittle and thin but I appreciate it. I’ve always been a listener and I know I keep a lot more to myself then I probably should. The only people who know I have an illness are family, a few friends, and some teachers who it was prudent to tell when I needed time off. If you knew about it, it means you land in those categories or I had to tell you because I felt bad that day or I trust you implicitly. The truth of the matter is I don’t think I’ve honestly went about going over it completely not even once. To anyone. I’m a little sorry about that. I want to do it now because it’s been a particularly bad month and it’s about time I think.

So a bit of a back ground story for those just tuning in. Back in high school, so eleven or twelve years ago I came down with a pretty bad ear infection that spread to an eye infection that spread to a throat, lung, kidney, blah blah blah infection that lasted a few months. It was a week before Christmas. I had a big project for history class that I was doing on Greek mythology and my brother brought me home an energy drink from work (my first one!) so I could finish the project. I remember going to class that day to hand it in but I felt off. Suffice to say I didn’t go back to classes for the following few days. On Christmas eve, after we had our celebrations I went to emergency because I could barely open my right eye? Left eye? The pictures are hilarious because I’m so happy but I look miserable. My mum hates them but I love them (sorry mum) because I love Christmas and being with family no matter what’s up with me. So those few months were the start of this journey. I never did get better after that.

The thing about invisible illnesses is that not a lot of people believe. You lose a lot of people. That’s one of the things no one really talks about. People give up on you when you’re sick a lot. The fact is I can understand it. It doesn’t really stop it from hurting though when it happens. Thankfully, I have the most remarkable family that knew that there was something wrong even the days when I didn’t even believe in it. The thing is that when doctors tell you for years and years that they can’t find anything and maybe it’s just stress part of you that believes them and then there’s this little voice that goes “but..?” I lived for ten years with an undiagnosed illness. I mean they labelled me with everything under the sun, some ridiculous like pregnancy and PTSD. Some that gave me a little more hope but turned out to still be wrong. Figures I’d have a few things wrong with me and that’s okay. I can manage.

Why am I calling it a love letter you might ask? There’s enough hate going around in the world and I’m not going to go about hating any part of myself. I can get angry sometimes at how I feel but this is about owning every part of me. The good and the bad. I love myself and this is my permission and consent to finally be okay with it all.

Dear body,

Let’s start off with you head.

You’ve been good to me. You’re incredibly bright and your memory is impeccable. Though you sometimes dream so vividly that you believe events have transpired that never existed. I do appreciate the extra episodes of Game of Thrones you conjured. I’m sad to never see them again. And that episode of Buffy that never happened which I spent years searching for. And then got freaked out when the room that was in that episode that you made up appeared in Angel years later. You freak. Thank you for the recurring dreams that are sometimes spread years apart. Some are surprises all over again. Thanks for the dreams in other languages and the ones that are a little prophetic. I like the advanced warning. I’m happy you’re ambitious but I’d be grateful if you took it back a notch so my body could keep up. I think I’m twenty years behind you right now. Just cool you’re jets, bro.

Thanks for building worlds that are so beautiful they make me weep. Thanks for making up characters that are strong despite tragedy. They’re all a little piece of you. There are 180+ characters that contain just a bit of your personality and you’re not nearly done yet. Thanks for the stories that put me to sleep. I know I’d be a hundred times worse if I didn’t have those. I’m sorry for the days your frightened to leave the house because you’re so close to fainting. It’s almost happened so many times. You’ve been so lucky. You know what it’s like to see only black for minutes at a time. You also know what it’s like to see only white for a few hours. I think you’re really brave for not being scared when that happens. You’re really patient. Thank you so much for being the patience and the eternal calm. You’re an island.

It’s okay that you’re not a talker. You’d have trouble seeing if you weren’t always listening. Thanks most of all for deciding in elementary school that the most important thing in the world was to keep an open perspective. It’s made you so kind. Except sometimes to yourself. It’s okay that sometimes you ache so bad that your vision goes black for minutes at a time and you’re fuzzy for hours afterwards. I like to think of it as a reboot for all that constant processing. It’s okay that your vision is shit. You get really cool contacts to wear. And your glasses are pretty stellar as well. And no one has got it right yet on why you bought them. No they aren’t Harry Potter or John Lennon glasses. They’re Jensen glasses. Disco.

It’s okay that your skin breaks out. It’s annoying but it lets me know when things are wrong. It’s okay when your jaw does off track. Slow down. You’re talking way too fast and you know what chocolate does to your skin anyway. You don’t even like it what are you doing. Put it down. It’s not okay that the dentist gave you nerve damage years ago after they gave you a terrible viral infection. I feel like the joker sometimes with the scars on the inside of my mouth. It’s cool when your ears buzz. You just got up. Give it a few minutes. Think of it that you’re so tall that the air pressure is so different way up here. Ears gotta pop.

You’re allowed to talk about feelings. It’s okay if you cry in front of people even if you’re allergic to your own tears. That’s nifty isn’t it? Plus, huge conversation starter. No one will believe you until it happens. Mostly, thanks for always smiling even when you don’t mean it and thanks for always staying positive. I would’ve stopped years ago if it wasn’t for you. I love you for keeping me afloat through the years. There was a breaking point years ago and you lifted me above it. I think you’re unbreakable even though I’ve wacked you and concussed you enough times. You’ve always pulled through.

A huge encore to my upper body.

First off, thank you for the double jointed thumbs. The number of people you’ve creeped out is truly a joy. Thanks for bringing forth the art in my head. Sometimes you’re not perfect but you’ve drawn enough faces to see everything you can’t say on paper. It’s okay that you’re not always strong. You’re also stronger than you believe and you have a capacity to be so much stronger. I’m sorry that that doesn’t always last. It fails pretty spectacularly sometimes but you can always pick yourself up. Sometimes you may falter and it may take a while but you always get up. Sometimes you need help because your left side is pretty broken and doesn’t work. It hurts a lot to pick things up and it hurts more to put on shirts. Sometimes you can’t leave the house cause you can’t put on clothes that day. That’s okay. It wasn’t your day. Your arms don’t work some days and that’s okay. You’re lucky to have another person who can be your arms when he’s around. When he’s not around your lucky to be resourceful. You’ve got legs and a head when those fail. Your neck is pretty stellar. Thanks for being reliable when everything is falling apart. Thumbs up neck.

Thanks to my ribs for trying. You’ve done great until this year. You’ve started to want to migrate to areas where you don’t belong. Trust me sometimes I want to vacation from everything but you’re pretty stuck to each other. I can really feel it when you guys stray. At least, please refrain from doing both sides at the same time. That’s all I ask. You’re really tender sometimes. Sometimes I worry you’re going to cave in if someone hugs me too tight. I believe in you though. Maybe you’re just deceptive. Thanks for guarding my innards though. Nothing’s ever gotten through you. Thank you heart for beating. Your key function has been met. Thank you for always letting me know when something’s wrong. Over the last year you might have gotten a bit too overzealous and you can slow to a reasonable rate anytime. It’s starting to be its own problem now. You’ve certainly worried the ultrasound technicians. They think I can’t relax. My upper body makes people think I’m not relaxed. And maybe I haven’t been able to in years. Maybe I’ve just been waiting for the next thing. On that note though, thanks stomach muscles for keeping me upright. Apparently, if you weren’t so tense I’d never be able to get up. You’re surprisingly adept at always keeping me going. Sometimes you hurt me with how tense you are and I feel it for days when I use you too much. And sometimes I can’t move much for days when I stand for too long. But I can trust you to always get me up. Maybe not far some days but always up.

Thanks you stomach for breaking down foods. Apparently you ferment a lot. Which is cool as a base concept like making alcohol but you’ve left me with fruits and vegetables as my primary food source. You’re sensitive to everything else. Or have rebelled highly. Also, you might want to cool it on making foods completely inedible. Or maybe I should be blaming the tongue? I can hardly eat anything as it is. I’d at least like to enjoy what I can. Thanks for allowing me some cheat days and only yelling at me with loud growls. I can’t thank you for the nausea and vomiting. Sorry, that’s on you. The cramping is also not appreciated and really what’s with that one spot that always hurts? I know it’s not in my stomach but I always call it my stomach. My bad. I give you such a bad rap but you’re not a bad guy. Sorry. It’s the intestines. I know it’s them but no one likes talking about them. But in this case intestines what’s up with that one spot? Cut it out. Also, good job on everything else. Kidneys? Your good. Just the infections? Stop. Everything else. Job well done. Gold stars. You falter sometimes but you’re always working. Mostly thanks for getting me up. Thanks for knowing when situations weren’t “right” and keeping me away from them. This might be weird but thanks for keeping me home so much sometimes. You showed me the people who would leave if you weren’t always there. Also, I’m sorry for the same reason. There’s a millions things you want to do and a million more invitations you wish you could accept. It’s always great to feel what it’s like on a good day when you can say yes and the people who have stayed and their smile at seeing you.

To my lovely lady bits and other unmentionables.

Is this too personal? Maybe. But I'm gonna say it anyway. I almost don’t want to write about you in public. I’m very sorry that that’s something society has instilled in me. To be weary of talking about you. So, I’m gonna do it anyway. Thanks for being mostly normal. You had a rough start. You bled for almost a whole year there. That’s probably a medical anomaly but the nose did that first and we burned that bastard into submission after that dream we had about the war of 1812. The amount of blood from my nose traumatized my father.

We figured out which pill worked for my periods. Thank you for discovering the Diva Cup. Periods would be much worse if you had to deal with pads and tampons. It also makes girls really uncomfortable when they ask if they can borrow something and you say you don’t use that stuff. Also side note, why do we say borrow? I don’t want it back! It’s why I always got into the habit of saying steal. Though that got me into trouble at the grocery store once… Anywho. Thanks for regulating. You never made me emotional or weird. That’s something I pride myself in. Thanks for not cramping up so bad or being a horror story. Except for that one year. I bet woman would cringe at bleeding almost constantly for one year. So, a bit of a horror story. I’m sorry for switching pills recently to see if it would stop my headaches. It didn’t and I have no idea where my periods went. To the other side. Thanks for never being constipated. Except after flights and long events where my body seems to cease all functions. I would be happy with far less diarrhea. But I’ll take it over vomiting to be honest and we’ve switched it up these past few years. So yay, I got my wish! Thanks for the most part for the not frequent urination. You’re a lifesaver. All in all, well done.

To the legs and my support system.

Thank you for always taking me where I need to go. My hips give out and sometimes my knees but you always go back. Even when you shake you take me far. And sometimes you need a break and you get to rest with the rest of me. Sometimes the muscles ache and I kinda like it. It means you got me places.

Overall, I’m really proud of you for holding it together. These years have been hard and I mostly feel useless but I’m one with this illness and I won’t let it control me one hundred percent. I’m learning to get around it and to accept what is possible. The one thing that hurts is when people expect more of you then you can give. I don’t think people know or understand how much this affects me. It’s not a life threatening disease but its life altering. Most days I don’t get out of my house. If you suffer from an invisible illness don’t let anyone dictate how you should feel. You can let things and people motivate you. If you can’t keep up keep your own pace. If it changes your life find a way around it. Do what you can do and don’t let it get you down. Own it and own up to it. Most of all don’t let someone say there’s nothing wrong with you when you know there’s something not right. Whether it be depression, or anxiety, or ehlers danlos, or anything invisible. To others don’t presume to know what someone is going through. Every case is unique and every body is different.

I have hyper mobility syndrome. If affects me both outwardly and internally. I found out what it was just last year. That’s eleven years of my family sticking by me. Pushing myself through schools and somehow graduating all of them. I’ve had to adapt around my illness. I do a blog now to showcase what I went to school for. Sometimes its all I can do. Soon I’ll be starting a business of my art and sculptures. Unfortunately, having a normal job is pretty impossible. I’m still figuring out my ups and downs and what will work. I’ll get there.

I’m still missing things I know. But this is my gist-list. You get the idea. More so then you did anyway…

Finally:

Dear me,

I love you. I’m proud of you. You’re not all you thought you could be and your brain gets way ahead of you but you get up every day. And you smile at every one. You’re kind and calm and patient and compassionate. You’re brave but you can be braver. You can forgive yourself for the things you haven’t accomplished. You have time to start all the things you want. Take your time. Be bold. Everything will be alright.

Most of all.

Just breathe.

In.

Out.

One moment at a time.

Every moment a new beginning.

You got this.

Products Used:

Primer: Make Up Forever Skin Equalizer Smoothing Primer.

Foundation: Kat Von D lock-it foundation in Light 44.

Contour: Morphe Brushes 9BZ Palette.

Blush: Morphe Blush Palette 9B.

Eyes: Stila in the know Eye Shadow Palette in wind.

Tears: Glycerin and Make Up Forever Metal Powder 94006.

Liner: Doucce Cosmetics Ultra Precision Eye Liner 500.

Lashes: Make Up Forever Smoky Lash.

Brows: MAC Lash Mixing Medium.

Lips: Too Faced Lip Injection Extreme mixed with Giorgio Armani Lip Maestro503.

Blood: Cinema Secrets FX Blood