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Symptom of Being Human


I would like to say that since Kate Bowler’s book, Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved, was published in 2018, I’ve known and loved her.

 

But in all honesty, I found Kate Bowler just a few years ago through Amazon.

 

Well, actually, it was through my hubby.

 

I found Kate because of Sean’s disastrous first encounter with a counselor.

 

After what felt like a lifetime of struggling with the effects of what autoimmune encephalitis did to me at age thirty-four and the terror it rained on our family in 2018, I began counseling in 2020. And in so many ways, it saved me. Dr. Nev and I have a powerful relationship, and I believe that our work together carried me across the finish line - however ambiguous that mark was.

 

A few years into my therapy, I began to nudge Sean a bit more and a little harder to also undertake counseling. Through my still-active law license, my family is eligible for the Employee Assistance Program which provides some free sessions. I encouraged him to try that and see where it led.

 

So he did. And it was awful.

 

When he returned from the first meeting, he was livid. It was really unlike him. He reported that it was horrible - a waste of time - and that she offered nothing. Because I had pushed him, I felt guilty. I kept asking - didn’t she offer you something? He said that he bared his heart, and it was so painful, and in return, she only stared at him. Like he had overwhelmed her. He made it clear he’d never. Ever. Return.

 

Because I cannot help myself, I asked again, didn’t she respond to you or offer any help? “No, she did nothing. All she did was tell me to read some book.”

 

Because I cannot help myself, I asked, what book did she recommend?

 

“I don’t know. Something called ‘Everything Happens for a Reason.’”

 

I was now livid, too. I couldn’t believe that he had spilled his guts: My onset, the terror, watching me have a grand mal seizure. The firemen, the ambulance, ERs, and hospitals. Trying to step in and run my life and deal with the law firm, watching in real time as I lost my mind and we were losing everything we’d worked for, being told he’d have to care for me all day and work all night, thinking he needed to sell our home and move us in with my parents. Watching me try to regain my footing, time and time again, for years. Hearing my sobs and feeling his own. Seeing me go from the top of my game to rock bottom. Are you f****** kidding me? You bare your heart, and she offers you some crap book and meaningless platitude?

But because I cannot help myself, I had to look the crap book up.

 

I proceeded to find it on Amazon. I immediately took to the cover. Something told me there was meaning there. (And one can never miss that little ol’ NYT bestseller insignia.)

 

As I read the pitch, I was mesmerized. She was living her life, working as a professor at Duke Divinity. Married. Had a child. And then at age thirty-five, she was hit with a stage IV cancer diagnosis, after she had immersed herself in studying the Prosperity Gospel. It all blurs together, how I was reading her story, witnessing my own, and also seeing people like Bill Gates and Glennon Doyle offer their praise.

 

The title clicked.

 

It wasn’t a coffee cup platitude. This woman had lived in the darkness.

 

I knew the book was for me.

 

It wasn’t a how-to. This author had a powerful message.

 

I immediately ordered it. And I selfishly wolfed it down as fast as I could. I highlighted everything. Pondered it. And told Sean how great it was. (He smiled along, but hadn’t quite recovered from the counselor recoiling at the sound of his trauma.)

 

I was assured that Kate Bowler was for me, too.

 

It’s almost hard to put into words why I admire her so much. (And of course there are my slightly obsessive tendencies. Let’s all hope she doesn’t collaborate with Elton John or I may self-combust.)

 

But if you know me, you know I love Kate. She’s appeared in my blogs. When I give keynotes, I conclude by saying that struggle is what’s shared among us. And then (because I’m weird) I say, “In the words of my dear friend Kate Bowler, being human is a chronic condition.” (I also talk about Elton like we go out to dinner together. Please don’t judge me.) I listen to her podcast and frequently share her Instagram content.

 

So much so that it led my bestie, Lacie, to say a while back: “Hey Jackie, you know that Kate Bowler who you’re always posting about …” (That’s an accurate quote. And she delivered big news with it!)

 

If I had to boil it down to one thing, I’d say that why Kate’s work lands for me and how she keeps me as an acolyte, is how she’s allowed me to bring truth to my pain.

 

I haven’t said it a lot, and probably only in front of Sean and my parents, but I have said it. And God knows I’ve repeatedly thought it. I did everything right. College. Law school. Distinctions and honors. Community. Faith. Giving. Work ethic. Marriage. Babies. Morals. “Everything.”

And my immune system provoked war on my brain. I got a disease I’d never even heard of. I lost my job, career, my income, and the law firm I built. After everything I put into myself and my existence. This horrible thing happened. “Everything” was taken.

 

Life lied to me. And broke me.

 

But when I woke up and regained my brain, I believed that I not only had to stand back up, but had to come out swinging. I honestly thought that if I didn’t find a way to smile through the pain and find pleasant, greater meaning, I’d be dismissed. That I had to be positive. And inspirational. Or no one would want to hear from me.

 

I know what it feels like to walk in the door of your law firm on Tuesday morning, owning a ten-million-dollar career, and to walk out Tuesday afternoon, and lose it. I know what it feels like to hear from the minority:

 

“The way she worked, what did she expect?”

 

“She did do family law. Maybe this was God’s way?”

 

“The practice of law brought out the worst in you.”

 

“Just go home. Love your husband and kids. Be happy.”


“Whyyy can’t you practice law anymore? Even part-time???”

 

I know what it felt like when people saw my hidden eyes, squished by my steroid face and spilled-over body. The short hair that had mostly fallen out. I remember what their body language said when my recovery-appearance quite literally shocked them. When people I’d known for years didn’t even recognize me. As I hobbled by them with my head down.

For years, I was angry. But it was behind closed doors. Because in public, I had to be blessed. I had to say, “Autoimmune encephalitis destroyed me, but look at how much I smile.” I had to prove that I could still be shiny and lovable. Just as society desires.

 

Kate’s work helped me unpack the contents of my anger and disappointment. She gave me permission to say just how devastated I was and not muzzle myself with gratitude. She allowed me to be dull and dim. And tattered.

 

On some level, we probably all believe that if we do everything right, life will reward us. And if not, surely, somehow, we’re to blame. Or at least something is to blame. But with our own will, perseverance, the right vitamins, and self-help books, we can fix it. We can rectify our mishaps and manage our destiny.

 

Kate taught me that’s all bogus. Life is hard. It can be unfair and ugly as hell. There’s simply no cure for being human. But we can hold the beauty and the ugly, together. We will have beautiful, terrible days. And with thought, prayer, and a lot of humor, we are allowed to pursue life’s truths through our pain. We may be shiny or not. But love and grace should be bestowed upon us either way.

 

We deserve to be honest about our hurt and disappointment. And we need to listen when others tell us of theirs. We don’t even have to say, “but …”.

 

“I’m so sad that I lost my career and identity, and I’m also happy that I have more time with my kids.”

 

What’s so great about Kate is that I genuinely believe in her and her message. In her wisdom and authenticity. She’s honest, kind, brilliant, and Humanities North Dakota is bringing her to Fargo, North Dakota, on October 10th for a Brave Conversation!

 

Because autoimmune encephalitis tried to destroy my life, but didn’t succeed. Because when my mind came back and I learned about the book “Brain on Fire,” I swore I’d write one. Because I had no idea how to write a book, but I worked my tail off through all the trauma to do it. Because I was in search of a local editor to give me some confidence. Because I found Sue Muraida, who also happened to work for Humanities North Dakota. Because Sue and I became fast friends. Because I’d already known the fearless Humanities leader, Brenna, for years. Because Sue found Susannah Cahalan and asked if I could interview her. Because Lacie has been my ride or die since 7th grade. Because she met Sue and Brenna and said, “Hey, I’m Jackie’s friend.” Because Lacie’s insane talent led Humanities to hire her as their marketing director. Because she babysat me when my brain was failing. Because she drew my Just Keep Swimming tattoo. Because I love the humanities. Because I’m a voracious reader. Because of Sean’s awful one-time-counselor’s great book recommendation, I found Kate Bowler. Because Sean loves me so much, he let me tell this story. Because I love to share hope with the JM Stebbins family.

 

Because I dearly love Kate Bowler, Humanities has asked me to emcee Kate’s No Cure For Being Human, Brave Conversation, on October 10th!

 

Maybe, just maybe. Everything (does) Happens for a Reason.

 

Kate Bowler is my prosperity gospel. And I bet she’ll be yours, too.

 

 

And Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day.

 

Luv,

 

jackie

“You’ve always been slightly awkward, kinda weird

Upside down and not all here

 

“Sometimes I’m in a room where I don’t belong

And the house is on fire and there’s no alarm

And the walls are melting too

How about you?

I’ve never been the favorite, thought I’d seen it all

‘Til I got my invitation to the lunatic ball

And my friends are comin’ too

How about you?

Don't worry, it’s all just a symptom of being human

 

“Unpack all your baggage

Hide it in the attic, where

You hope it disappears

This all seems so familiar

But it doesn’t feel like home

It’s just another unknown

 

“Don’t worry, it’s all just a symptom

Of being human” ~ Symptom of Being Human by Shinedown

 

__________

 

/ / The JM Stebbins blog is an autoimmune encephalitis blog from former lawyer and autoimmune encephalitis survivor, Jackie M. Stebbins.

 

Jackie M. Stebbins is also the author of Unwillable: A Journey to Reclaim my Brain, a book about autoimmune encephalitis, resilience, hope, and survival. / /

 

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