Thursday, May 6, 2010

I am sorry to say...

What is wrong with me? If desire could be the catalyst for positive change in my life—I would be channeling Mary Poppins. I want to feel joyful, be thankful, and act full of life. Instead, I am as flat and unchanging as the Yukon River in February.
Of course, I know what is wrong with me; I have progressive MS, the root cause of the fatigue, pain, and depression that seem to define my every minute these days. Of course I know I am loved and wanted and that I contribute to the planet (blah, blah, blah) I can't seem to break past what I know intellectually and really give a damn.
If I try to separate out what is physiological, that is caused by MS and what is situational, that is the reality of being 45 and in the situation I find myself; it is much like trying to sort a basket of sewing needles by the sharpness of the point. At the end of the day, I only know that my fingers are endlessly sore from being pricked.
I haven't written in the past couple of weeks. Honestly, I haven't had much to say. My life seems unchanging and uninteresting. I worry that my 'audience' will tire of my tiresome life.
In rereading the previous words I can't help but feel that I am at once both too frank and too without hope. Yet, when I take a clinical assessment, I am being honest in the options left to me.
The silver chord that holds me together is my faith in a Heavenly Father who leads me to eternity. Yet, this promise is the future. Today I must brush my teeth, put on clean underwear, and be out for a series of appointments. Is the day coming when I can no longer do this? Is that day today?
I don't have any answers. I have 1 hour and 50 minutes to paste myself together. To somehow overcome the nerve pain that is like a living thing in my arms, put aside the fatigue that lays over me like too many layers of heavy wet blankets, and slip on the 'public' me. Beneath it all I cling to my faith and knowing that I am known all the way down to the whorls on my toes, by a God who loves me and accepts me as I am:

From Psalm 119...
25 I am laid low in the dust;
preserve my life according to your word.
28 My soul is weary with sorrow;
       strengthen me according to your wor
d.

4 comments:

Bibliotekaren said...

Janine, I've only posted a couple times on your site but I read your posts and appreciate your grit and honesty. I think I sometimes pretend that I'm coping better than I am so I don't have to be judged by mostly me. Wishing you comfort and strength.

Donna

Peace Be With You said...

Psalm 91:11-12
For to his angels he has given comand about you that they guard you in all your ways. Upon their hands they shall bear you up lest you dash your foot against a stone.

You are not alone. Peace be with you.
Judy

Stuff could always be worse said...

Yes I feel the same sometimes, like i have nothing to say and am boring...but a few said i should keep writing...like i am saying to you

Nedarb said...

Hang in there, I'm home soon.