Sometimes, I look at photos of myself on social media, and I’m a little amazed.  That might sound obnoxious — just gimme a minute.

I look normal.

I mean, my life, the photos, what I’m doing — it all looks normal.

And in a lot of ways, it is.  But ….  In some ways, it’s not.

It’s such a weird balance — and I’m not very good at it.  When am I just me –when do I have MS?  When should that be the most important thing … when should it be NOT important at all?

I mean, in general, I tend to believe it shouldn’t be important at all.  And then I have a day like today, when my hands puff up like … well, like puff pastry.  And I wonder if I didn’t have MS, would my hands be swollen?  Would they feel different? Am I making it all up in my head because I’m a hypochondriac?

It’s stressful.

I already overthought things — you know, before the MS.  And I already worried deeply — clearly, also pre- multiple sclerosis.  So then when you throw something in the mix as … serious? intense? incurable? … as MS, clearly, things aren’t going to get better.  Maintain the status quo?  Win.  But that possibility?  Very slim.

I  was looking at a photo from a  PSU game a few weeks ago — I’m smiling and posing — looking like every year I’ve ever tailgated in my life.  But looking at the photo, I knew that my legs were bad that day — I had Lydia with me every step of the way.  I remembered being frustrated in the stands, my vision so dark I could barely make out details.

And while of course the things I deal with are frustrating to me — how could they not be? — it also makes me consider the sadness of so many people, dealing with things that far outweigh the challenges I hurdle on a daily basis.

Life presents us with challenges.  We’d all love to believe that we care deeply about the trials and tribulations of others — we’re so evolved and aware.  And on some level, we are.  But on another level, it’s very easy to say things, to make gestures and promise fairy tales.  And then head home to our warm beds and our worry free life.  “I’m so sad for such and such a situation” but at the same time, pour a glass of scotch and watch TV shows recorded on our DVR.

It’s a challenging thing to authentically reconcile.

I guess I’m not really getting at much.  Except that maybe photos — like appearances — can be deceiving.  Behind every smile — underneath every smirk and wink — there’s the underbelly of life, the truth of every day existence.  We can all pretend to be whatever we want to be on Facebook or Instagram.  And maybe that’s a good thing — who knows.  But everyone’s existence is colored by their own and others’ opinions.  Such is life.  Nothing — seriously, nothing — is as pretty and pure as a photo.

But sometimes it’s nice to pretend it is.