I confess that I was secretly hoping that finishing the book (which is in semi-final draft form at this writing) would be some sort of graduation for me. Oh, not a physical cure. Aside from the tiny "miracle happens here" space I reserve, I'm beyond hoping for physical cure.
My orneriness over the last weeks has shown me I'm not beyond hoping for emotional perfection. Nor am I beyond being a sulky (at best) four year old when I don't get it.
My physical symptoms have increased in recent months. At first I was patient with my tears, my new fears, my clumsiness. But I wanted to get through it and be done. I wanted the "new normal" to arrive and the struggle over.
I've had several days in the last month where I've gotten out of bed using my new procedure and pretended the New Normal had arrived. (The new procedure is to put the scooter right next to the bed and use my arms to slide my bottom from bed to scooter seat. I used to use the walker and walk a few steps to the scooter.)
"I've got it now!" I crow inside. "Things will be easier again!" Then I go into the bathroom and can't transfer to the toilet. The crowing bird crashes to earth and I'm swearing and in tears.
I have been doing the cha cha with Overwhelm for weeks and I'm getting tired of it.
Can I manage to "get over it" and "be serene and good humored" through sheer force of will?
On one hand it seems unlikely, on the other hand: what else is there? This feels like a "fake it until you make it" situation.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment