One May Have Good Eyes Yet See Nothing

I started to write an update as it’s been two weeks since my last infusion day…

But everything seemed so trivial when I saw it typed in front of me

There’s so much that I want to say and yet it doesn’t feel like it would amount to much

So I’ll make this brief and say the only thing I’ve really been wanting to say:

I’ve been watching TV like all day every day

The bingeing kind of TV watching

The kind I’ve been unable to do in so long

And I was scared to say this aloud or type it out

But fuck it it’s my blog after all

My eyes don’t hurt

I’ll say it again for the people at the back

MY FUCKING EYES DON’T HURT!

I can’t remember a time when they didn’t hurt

It’s been that long

How crazy is it that I can barely remember the before MS version of me

I’m not foolish enough to think this is permanent

But for now I’ll relish in this moment

Temporary and short lived or not

And if it all comes back in the blink of my eye…

Write. Write until it stops hurting.’

-Anais Nin

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I’m like the Tonya Harding of the non figure skating world

More specifically

I am the Tonya Harding of the sick persons world

Like Tonya, I’m not the easiest to like

Like Tonya, I don’t evoke feelings of sympathy

Like Tonya, I’ve had to work at everything I’ve ever wanted

Unlike Tonya, I know the war is with myself

No one else ever should a chance

I know that there is no outside force that can be changed which will miraculously make my own life any easier

Nor will it make me the perfect poster child for a winning MS campaign

Or the face of the next Bell Let’s Talk day

I’ve accepted that things will likely always be a little harder for me

It’s my cross to bear

I’ve learned not everyone has one

And yes they are indeed lucky for that

Would I change it if I could?

Without hesitation

Do I think that there is anything within my control that would make said things easier for me?

Not a chance

The cross I have to bear

It’s a big one

It’s heavy and solid all the way through

And I drop it often

I can’t ever lose it though

Because I know it’s mine for this lifetime

So I pick it back up

And march on with it

It never feels lighter or easier

But I get more comfortable with it

I still stumble, and I struggle

But I have learned something

That cross will always be mine

And so I bear that damn cross

That has my name so deeply carved in it

That it could only ever be mine

No doubt or question

Sometimes I think I was born with that fucking cross

It was always mine

It claimed me

Before I had a chance to even breathe

A bruise by any other name

A bruise is like a badge

You’re not just handed one

You earn your bruises just like a badge

A bruise means you showed up

It signifies that you actually ‘did’ something for a change

That bruise carries with it the same honour as a trophy raised above your head

It says ‘hey world this might not mean anything to you but to me it means everything

Your bruise is one of a collection of bruises and scars

They are proof

In the flesh

That you’re real

That your battle is real

It’s evidence that you are still here

Inhabiting this world

This universe that you’re a part of

Left it’s mark on you

And you are treasuring it

Like the beautiful reminder that it is

Watching the marks build up

With a sense of awe

At what you’ve accomplished

In this life

Stretched out in front of you

Like a winners banquet

These bruises of mine

Look like victory

Someone Like Me

One more day to go

Tomorrow is my first day of Round 2 Lemtrada treatment

Today is my prep day

I am prepping meals and snacks for the infusion days

And dinner meals for the week

I need to take the dreaded Prednisone this afternoon to help my body get ready for the infusion

I have a roster of family coming with me on each of the three days

I feel ready

More than that

I want it to be done already

It’s kind of like putting your life on hold for a minimum for one year

With the possibility of extending that

This year has not been kind to me

And I’ve had difficulty in dealing with everything from work to my health to my finances and personal life

What doesn’t kill you…right?

Having said that I do feel better prepared for around 2

I know what to expect and what not to expect

And I now know that nothing good ever comes without sacrifice

So if it means another year of my life on hold to make the next several years hopefully better…

So be it

I have discovered I am the type of person who needs something to look forward to

A purpose

A goal

A reward

I find it motivating and challenging and I like overcoming challenges

I thought it would be helpful to me if I made up a list of things I am looking forward to

It makes this more tangible

And it makes this feel worth it

Here goes:

  • I want to go to Salem for Halloween this October
  • I want to go to a beach somewhere this summer (sorry Ontario, with an ocean)
  • I want to plan a trip to a place I’ve never been like Ireland or Portugal within the next 6-9 months
  • I want to find a job where I feel valued and where I feel like I’m doing something goodI want to become reacquainted with the city I love by exploring different neighbourhoods or rediscovering old neighbourhoods
  • I want to take up photography as a hobby and incorporate that into this blog
  • I want to make this blog into something…more
  • I want to see and spend time with the people I love and who make me smileI want to spend my nights sharing stories with J. where we can laugh and look forward to the future that is open for usI want to make my body and mind healthy for the first timeI want to remove unhealthy toxins from my life and body (looking atcha Paxil
  • I want to get a tattoo to immortalize this experience as is the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced

And this last one, is probably the most difficult and simultaneously the most important one to me.

  • I want to feel at peace in my soul. In my mind and in my body. I don’t expect happiness 24/7 but I want to know that it is attainable even for someone like me…

Why bother trying to write something when someone else has already written it so much more succinctly than I could ever imagine.

I don’t have any words other than this article is everything I’ve thought myself, too many times to count…

https://themighty.com/2018/04/chronic-illness-struggles/?utm_source=engagement_bar&utm_campaign=post_feed.story_card_full.mobile_fixed_engagement_bar&utm_medium=link

36 Years Old And Still Not Okay

Sick and tired

Running a low grade fever

Closer to treatment I get, the worse I feel

I feel like I’m nonstop fighting a flu

Tired of feeling this way

But honestly, I can’t even remember a time where I didn’t feel shitty

Where I didn’t feel sick

Or just generally unwell

Mentally or physically

Even pre MS diagnosis

Facebook reminds me of all the statuses I’ve posted over 10 plus years complaining over one sickness or another

Is it possible that I’ve never been really OK?

And I know what the optimists will say:

You gotta be positive

Things will get better

But I have no evidence to prove any of that as plausible

In fact all the evidence I’ve collected throughout my life points to the contrary

The evidence illustrates a life filled with sickness and struggle as a result

Try as hard as I might

And I cannot for the life of me

Think of a time when I felt…I don’t know even just OK

But that can’t be possible right?

No one can always have been and continue to feel like shit, right?

Is anyone’s luck that bad?

So is it my mood then?…

This is like a chicken and egg thing

And I can’t figure out what came first

Did my mental health change one day…

And then my physical body became sick?

And when did this all happen?

Because I’m looking back through the screen shots of my life and I can’t think of a time where I felt…I don’t know…good

But ‘good’ sounds so insignificant

I don’t understand it

And I don’t know how to fix something that I don’t understand

Then I worry that I’ll never understand

So where does that leave me?

Sick

And

Tired

At only 36 years old

And still just fucking lost

Road map

I was 18 years old

I had just gotten my very first tattoo

In Montreal with my good friend

I got a tiny little fist

It took maybe 15 mins

And then we walked to a park

And I had my very first panic attack

This picture was taken when I walked away not really explaining myself to my friend

I don’t remember ever experiencing a feeling quite like that

Yet I instinctively knew that it was a ‘panic attack’

I grew up seeing my father have them

Almost daily

The knowledge didn’t help not comfort me

Somehow I made it through that first episode

I can’t really say how

And all these years later

And that tattoo

Of that little fist clenched in a show of power

Is still bumpy to the touch

Like a warning of the struggle up ahead

But I’d rather think of it as a tangible road map of what I’ve been through

And survived