I was done. Done with everything. I was surrendering. I was going to quit everything and stay home and binge-watch Netflix. I was giving up derby and boxing, thinking that the couch I was curled up on was the perfect place to live out my days. I hadn't been on skates for almost two weeks. I was feeling quite defeated. My thoughts were betraying me. In fact, betrayal was abound. And I was not only burdened with these feelings of loss, I was fighting the fear that I am now damaged goods. I was terribly lonely. And who in the hell would sign up for life tainted by this MS nonsense? Why would anyone want to be part of all this?
But this morning, I woke up feeling better.
The first thing I noticed was that I actually had to be woken up by my alarm. I don't remember the last time that happened. And when I was brushing my teeth, I noticed that I drank my cup of water with nary a flinch.
And little things happened that are starting to add up to me being in a better place. Derby girls are encouraging me to get back on the track. Sara is back from her travel adventures. I so missed her. And she has also offered to skate with me. I think I have the energy to pound on a heavy bag. I know for sure that I have the desire to punch on one. My work is feeling like I have a firmer grasp on it. Kidlet seems happy.
I'm getting things back on the rails. It was a short delay, and it's over. Onward ho! But it is a little scary because I don't know what is ahead of me a mile down the tracks. I'm the kind of person that reads the end of the book first. It actually enhances my enjoyment. I know most people don't understand that. But some of you will know what I mean.
I want to know how it's going to end. I want to read the end of my book. I can deal with whatever it reveals. I just want to know. And I can't.
A year ago, I thought I knew where I was heading. Then things started tilting for me. I had my hysterectomy, which was a much bigger ordeal than I had thought it would be. Someone I thought I would know forever moved away and is fading from my life. My eye started to spark, alerting me that all was not well. I was introduced to the claustrophobia of the MRI machine. I learned to give myself a shot. I have weekly fever chills. And there are sharps containers in my house.
This was not what I wanted. This was not where I wanted to be. But... here I am. And, I'm OK.
I'm OK that it might take me twice as long to get over a cold than a year ago. Because I was just reminded that I can get over it. I know it will take me a long time to improve my skating, but I want to. I so, so want to. And I was reminded that a lot of people want to help me succeed. It will take me a lot longer to get over the loss of a love. But, these are the losses that make it so clear who belongs in your life. And who should not get that privilege. And that is important information.
So I hereby announce a restart. The last week is just not going to count. This week, 2014 begins again for me.