Getting Back on The Horse

That awkward moment when.................

...you wake up at 6:30am with a burst of energy and drag a laundry basket full of towels that you can't see over the top of down 2 sets of stairs and get those in the washer and then come upstairs and unload the dishwasher and get the coffee on and preheat the oven for hash brown potato patties and whip the eggs up in a bowel for french toast and....you bend your head down to test your body to see whether or not today is another day of hanging out with your BFF, L'hermitte...but he isn't there.  Neither is the gaggle of spiders that had been crawling all over you.  And that little guy with the sharp object?  Nope, he's not hanging out on your left shin anymore.  The belt around your neck is gone, just like the vice in your chest.  And you must have kicked your blanket of depression off the bed at some point last night, because it's not tangled up all around you.

I had that awkward moment this morning.  And yes.  That's pretty much what a single thought sounds like in my 200mph mind.

I suppose I can consider this flare gone, at least for this moment in time?  Looking back, I realize it had been around for a few months.  I tried everything that my medicinally challenged body can do to speed the "get outta here already" process along, but failed those as well.  I ate and drank my dark berries.  I switched from coffee to green tea + honey (GASP!).  I tried, desperately, to exercise.  For the first time in 14yrs of life with this very unwelcomed guest, exercise seemed to make matters worse.  Walking hurt. A lot.  Riding a stationary bike was better, but made everything vibrate before going numb.  I couldn't recover for days and, by recover, I don't mean "let's do that again".  It was more like "let's just sit nice and still".

Just this week, someone at work had asked if I'd lost weight.  I politely smiled, thanked her, and said I hadn't noticed.  Total lie.  I haven't lost weight, but I've certainly lost a great deal of tone and strength.  As complimentary as she intended to be was as hard as her kind comment hit me.  I'm so used to an invisible disease and I've always liked it that way.  Looking fine on the outside and fighting an inner war suits me just fine.  But now, someone saw that my clothes aren't hanging off of me in the same way.  What looks like weight loss?  Is atrophy.

I came to the conclusion, while slouched like a blob in my desk chair, that this may just be my new "normal".  MS-y, depressed-y, fluffy, saggy, and kinda weak.  I had a lengthy conversation with God, which went pretty well, considering the fact that I was totally content with my pity party.  As a result, I was reminded of all my "can do"s.  My thoughts moved from my MS-y limitations to my family, friends, and the amazing stuff my kids are doing...all that they're becoming.  I knew my weekend would be stellar.  Breakfast with a friend!  A special Saturday night worship service!  Hang-out time with my daughter!  My son's playoff hockey games!  I realized that I have too much to look forward to...too much to give thanks for...and there's simply not enough time to feel depressed-y about some atrophy.  And that it's okay not to accessorize my work attire with necklaces.  Because with that belt-across-my throat sensation, I'd rather throw a necklace than wear it.

See?  I got over myself.  With the Lord's help :-)

But?  I suppose waking up this way means it may be safe to try and get back on the horse.  I'll definitely need a stool and lots of handles with which to drag myself back on, but...I suppose trying is the only option...


Be well, friends!