Defining “normal”

I have recently come across many posts where sufferers write about how they long to be “normal”. In a few of my posts, and most recently, I too speak of that longing for a norm.
I guess what I truly long for is familiarity, because when I fell ill I also felt like I lost a huge chunk of myself to the illness.
You may feel like you are not a whole person anymore. You might be embarrassed or ashamed that you have an illness. It happened to me, as I’m sure it has happened to you. It isn’t your fault – it’s inevitable.
It leaves you wishing to be normal, but when you think about it, what really is “normal”?

Google defines normal as, ”conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected”.

Is there only one standard that Google, and society, is referring to?
What do YOU think of when I say normal?
Is normal being able to be active?
To have the freedom to study, travel and work?
Is it being illness free, or having an illness?
Agreeing with others, or voicing opinion?
To be heterosexual, transgender, gay or lesbian?
Is normal being married, single, in an open relationship?
To do the things we were once accustomed to doing?
Or do we each create our own idea of what is an acceptable norm, and what is unacceptable?

I know when in school, there’s the longing to be popular.
In cases of Body Image, people long to be skinnier. You rarely hear of someone saying, I wish I was heavier (although, I’m apart of that rarity as I’m sitting here right now wishing my body would put on weight rather than lose).
Perhaps in our case (the chronically ill), “normal” means “healthier” or “happier”.
I know that when I say that I want to be normal again, I really just want my health to return, and that familiarity I used to have every day.

I’m still finding it hard to adjust to this illness and how it has changed my life so quickly. I am unable to work, drive, and struggle to be independant like I used to. The illness has restricted me, and on some days it leaves me bedridden. I’m struggling to accept the fact that I am actually this sick. Sometimes I wake up and think that I can go back to work with the kids, or hop in my car to go for a drive… That obviously isn’t the case anymore.
Instead of accepting the fact that I have a new norm, I waste time worrying over the wrong steps I took to possibly get to this place, hating myself and I guess, trying to blame someone or something for changing what I was used to.
Maybe that’s the harsh reality of it all.
Maybe we are all meant to be different.
Maybe we are too afraid to accept change in ourselves and our lives.
Maybe we don’t like the fact that the change can be a disadvantage.

Maybe we are too proud to admit that we as humans, have flaws.

Maybe there really is no such thing as “normal”.