As a kid, I played nearly every sport you could think of. After school, my mom would drop me off at soccer practice, feed me in the car, then rush me to tennis lessons, and after, leave me at basketball workouts. Playing sports was one of the only things that truly distracted me from the reality of life, the anxiety of school and social pressures. Athletics contributed not only to my physical strength, but my mental toughness and confidence. I was unaware how quickly one doctor’s appointment could change my life, making me an outsider in the only environment I’d ever known. 

My battle with Graves Disease begins a few months prior to my diagnosis. I experienced symptoms including constant headaches, fatigue, the struggle to climb a flight of stairs without gasping for air. This immediately worried my parents, as I had always been physically fit. My pediatrician completed a work-up and encouraged me to visit an endocrinologist who would diagnose me with the chronic illness, Graves disease. In retrospect, my diagnosis was only the eye of the storm; that perfect calm in which everything seems to be over. I was oblivious to the fact that a much more difficult obstacle lay ahead. My Graves disease, although successfully treated, morphed into something beyond my body, attacking my mental psyche, controlling my thoughts and behavior. My physical symptoms were just the dangerous opening battle/ My ensuing psychological struggle was the war.

It began with sports. My endocrinologist immediately placed me on two months of no intense physical activity. I was horrified. Not only did I believe I would ever compete on the same level as my peers again, I lost that habitat of bliss and peace. When I finally returned back to sports, my old teammates looked at me differently. I was no longer fit, athletic, and cheerful, but out of shape, and seemingly, out of place. 

Furthermore, I was often too sick to attend school, so my classmates began to question my absence over text. Ashamed of my disease, I told everyone I was attending to family matters to avoid the difficult conversation of my illness. After I completed treatment for my disease and returned to school, I required certain aids, like leaving classes early, which only contributed to my isolation. It was difficult to re-enter an environment that operated successfully while you were struggling someplace else. I missed out on countless exams, homeworks, hangouts with my friends. I was swamped with incomplete assignments and helplessness.
Instead of embracing this isolation and outsider perspective, I decided to view this situation optimistically. Athletically, I worked extremely hard off the field to regain my physical fitness. My teammates began noticing the effort I’d been putting in and they applauded me for my dedication. Academically and socially, I found ways to complete my work with the help of teachers, friends, and tutors. 

Being an outsider allowed me to realize the importance of dedication. My disease forced me into a spiral of isolation and feeling that I was too different to ever be accepted by my society. However, my disease also made me work harder to achieve my goals and to not allow my symptoms and setbacks encompass who I am.