They never stop. It's the unpredictability. I've decided to exploit my disease whenever possible and I joke about it but still.
It doesn't stop, knowing that a week from now I may be in wheelchair, I may lose my sight, my cognitive functioning.
It has been months. When do I learn to live with it? When do I stop waiting for the other foot to drop? When do I go back to being the me I was before this?
I'm not weak, I'm not to be pitied. I am strong, I am a Viking, I am badass.
So when do I stop being such a fucking scared pussy? When will this stop consuming me?
You ARE a badass. You're more than that - you're incredible. We all fear the things we can't control, and the Great Unknown. Just for you tho, the Great Unknown is Known, which must - understandably - make the fear all consuming. I don't know what I'd do if I had MS, but I hope I'd be like you. You're pretty inspirational really.
ReplyDeleteYou did not just call me inspirational. Guess you didn't read the previous post because, if you had, you would see that I'm much more "cautionary tale" than "inspiration". :P
ReplyDeleteThank you for the kind words though. Most of the time I'm fine and normal and don't think too much about it. Other nights I freak out and call my mother and cry like a baby and probably scare the shit out of her. Last night was one of those nights.
Sorry. I did. And then I worried for several hours that I had been patronising. (still worrying). If you lived in London I'd fill you full of sidecars (am obsessed with sidecars) and tell you it was medicinal. Not sure what my excuse would be. If you were my daughter I'd cry like a baby too. Bastarding MS.
ReplyDeleteHa!! No worries, I didn't take it as patronizing at all and I actually get comments like that a lot.
ReplyDeleteI've seen your recipe for a Sidecar and I'm dying to try it (I actually enjoy brandy) if only because it sounds so wonderfully old fashioned.