When I first entered the teenager years, I was diagnosed with a rare chronic kidney disease. Balking away from traditional steroid treatment, I went on a (very) low sodium, low animal protein, low dairy and (very) high raw vegetable diet. People ask me if I only ate rabbit food. I say yes, but it was more like rabbit and squirrel food, plus chicken (but not Tyson because of the too-high sodium content). It wasn't all that bad, though. My amazing mom makes almost all our meals from scratch, so she was able to tweak some traditional recipes here and there to fit through the constraints of my diet. Even so, it proved quite difficult after the first few months to keep eating the same foods over and over again. When you're on as strict a diet as I was, there's not a whole lot of variety to go around.

After about three years, I started to become lax in my diet. After four years, I would say I wasn't truly on my diet; although, I still ate much better than most people. It became a lot easier once I could start having cookies again (I have a major sweet tooth), so I count that as being "off" the diet. All in all, it was about four years, although it's been seven since my diagnosis.

The experience taught me invaluable lessons, lessons that have been reinforced of course, but I first started to learn them back in the day at the age of 13. Before I pat myself on the back, a bit of a disclaimer is that I continually rebelled against these lessons. I didn't want to learn them (being a selfish 13-year-old and all) and I'm still struggling with the balance for them all as a college student. As young as I still am, I've seen that through the different stages of life I've been through already, these lessons pop up again. I've, therefore, concluded that they won't go away and it's time to buckle down and learn them. So here goes:

1. Self discipline.

I actually had a jump start on this one. My mom (being amazing) home-schooled me all the way through middle school, so I'd already had a crash course on self-discipline. I knew that to get anything done that needs to get done is to do it without finding a million excuses first. Well, it also works the other way.

When you know you shouldn't do or have something, don't think of a dozen reasons why you should or about how much you really want it. When I'm browsing through the cupboard for a snack and my eye alights on that open bag of pretzels or goldfish, I had to learn how to tell myself no. And then I'd eye those snacks and really wish I could have it, and maybe just one won't hurt anything, well maybe a few more... It's better on yourself to just close the cupboard and walk away. Say no to yourself — and no means no!

2. Delayed (or instant) gratification.

After you have mastered self-discipline, it's important to remember that small and far between treats for yourself are acceptable. Whenever I'd slip up and eat that cookie (or three), I would feel so guilty afterwards that I'd swear off all non-dietary foods and be super strict and hard on myself for however long after.

While being strict on yourself when you need to be is good, it wears you out fast. It wasn't long before I'd break down and out of depression eat a bowl of cereal, a meat and cheese sandwich or something really bad like a bit of Chex-Mix. Then the guilt trip followed and the cycle repeats itself. So, it's important to reward yourself for good behavior every so often (maybe have set dates for specific treats) to remind yourself that life isn't all doom and gloom.

3. Self denial.

This one's more tailored to when you're undergoing a personal struggle. I personally struggled with wanting to tell the world how much I suffered. I couldn't wait to explain to people all that I couldn't eat and watch their eyes go big and the pity-party for me commence.

Once I got beyond the pity-party thing, though, I still struggled with wanting to tell people my story just so that I could show how much I "related" to them. The truth is, interrupting people to talk about myself doesn't endear me to them at all. Alienation is the closer word to describe what happens. All anyone wants is to talk about is him or herself, so by interrupting with my own story, I'm telling them I don't really care. To be able to relate to people on a healthy level, I had to learn how to shut up and just listen.

Denying the pleasure of talking about myself opened up a whole new capacity for compassion for people. It's very refreshing to take a break from talking about myself and just listen to what everyone else has to say (because they're dying to say it and I don't have to think up anything to say).

4. Perspective.

Things can always be worse, remember that! My memory's a little fuzzy, but I was swimming at a friend's pool and I either saw a person in a wheelchair or someone was talking about someone they knew in one. Either way, I had an epiphany: How could I feel sorry for my condition — not being able to swallow a few choice morsels — when I had full control of my body (as in, swimming in a pool) and was in the company of loved ones, to name just two blessings?

A little dose of perspective goes a long way to improve one's attitude. So now whenever I start to sulk about anything, I start to think of what others daily live without and what I daily take for granted. Being able to zoom out from yourself and objectively examine reality is a powerful tool.

5. Complaining: where does it get you?

This is probably the lesson that goes most against my grain. It is extremely easy to complain. I complain about how tired I am without even thinking about it. I complain about my work, my school, the weather — it comes rather naturally. I'm no different from anyone else, though. People are complainers, but before we write it off as OK because it's "normal," consider one thing: Complaining is not attractive. It's ugly. Who likes to be around someone who is constantly griping about one thing or another? Nobody, because it sucks. I have found that perspective leads to less complaining (It actually leads to thankfulness, but who ever notes the middleman?) and the more I considered how worse off I could be, like in a wheelchair or without the luxury to eat at all, the less inclined I felt to complain about my present circumstances.

This is one of those lessons that I forget every so often, only to suddenly be awakened to how much I have complained recently and how base it presents me to others.

So there you have it, five measly lessons I have forgotten and/or ignored time and time again, but I think they're worth relearning every time. God uses every hard trial for a good purpose and my chronic disease brought about my early understanding of some things it takes a lifetime to learn.

Thankfulness is actually key to it all. Be thankful for what you have, for what you don't have to put up with, for what hardships have taught you and for the good times in store.

God bless!