Today is my birthday. Way back in the early 90’s, I was squeezed out of the birth canal in a hospital in Alaska. Unfortunately, I don’t remember any of it. On the other hand, that might be a good thing. Birthday parties have always stressed me out to the point of breaking down I was three years old, in my party dress, refusing to play with the other kids who had come to celebrate with me. To be fair, I was three, and was probably just tired, cranky, and hungry for cake. That was the last big party I ever had to endure, as my parents picked up on my reservations when it came to playing games and eating finger food with a herd of children. Despite being a child, I didn’t much like other children. They didn’t make sense to me. They didn’t feed me or play the games I wanted to play. I was a spunky kid, but for some reason I always had a tough time with birthdays. Until now.

When I woke up this morning in C’s and my bed in the loft of our yurt, I felt instant butterflies. My birthday! No two ways about it, today is my birthday. I am 29. C and I shared a sweet morning, smuggling while listening to our song, shoveling the deck and Emerson’s paths behind the outhouse, drinking our favorite coffee in front of a mercifully hot fire (it has been chilly this week). We took a long walk up the road and back, talking and laughing as our boots crunched through the newly packed snow on the winding country road. I felt very peaceful. Dozy, even. I attributed that to the Clozaril, which I think is working better and better for me. I am slowly coming off some of my other medication (under my doctor’s careful watch, of course), and my energy is a lot less “jangly.” I use the word (actually I’m not sure it’s a word) jangly to describe a kind of nervousness that makes focusing on one thing difficult. One particular med was causing this, and I finally realized that I had found the culprit. Decreasing it has already made a significant impact and for that I am grateful. And of course, the walking. Never do I feel as good as when I am outside walking with my family. This hour or so walk was a birthday gift in and of itself, that and the wan sun I peered into, wishing my vitamin D levels well.

C and I work well together. After our walk we cleaned the house–vaccuming, Swiffering (dry and wet), dusting, arranging. I felt so at ease, so energetic, yet also calm, and hungry. I have been nourishing myself with healthy, soul-filling food and my weight is stable. I am in the best shape of my life, if I am being honest (and tooting my own horn a wee bit). I’m just grateful for my body’s resilience. I strive to take care of it as if it were a very precious object. Some might say our bodies are in fact precious objects. I would agree with them. When I was not in a good state of mind, I could care less about my body. This can be a symptom or reaction to many different life events or circumstances, and you reading this might relate. Living with schizophrenia also means care-taking your body and mind. For many years I relied on others to do this. Now I have taken that power back. I choose to take as best care of myself as I can. Good food, regular bowels, sound sleep, daily movement, supportive relationships and purpose. Of course, I don’t have these all figured out to a T, but I am pretty good at checking in with myself for all of these focus areas, and today, on my 29th birthday, I would say that I am a fully functioning adult and participant in society. I am a student at a university, a student of yoga, a loving spouse and daughter. I make art. I write. I run and ski and rock climb. What better way to celebrate my 29th year than to do the things I love to do. Today it happened to be snow shoveling and relaxing in bed with C. And dinner and cake with my parents of course. My sweet, hilarious mother is making me a yellow cake (kek!) with chocolate frosting. And I am very excited to have a piece. I don’t need to give my birthday away to an illness. I am not that illness. I live with it, but I am not it. I am Kaiyuh, and it’s my birthday. I honestly thought, many years back, that I wouldn’t make it this far. And here I am. I love proving myself wrong. I also love being alive. For now, I cannot complain.