I was born with an incurable disease.
I never was really mad about it or saw myself as a victim of circumstance. I guess I had pretty much accepted my condition as simply being a part of me.
Of course, acceptance helped a great deal with my facing my illness straight on; I had no issues talking about it or seeking information to take the necessary actions to keep my illness in check. I made sure that I ate well, exercised regularly, go for all my scheduled medical check-ups, slept enough… basically I toed the health line. I would say it worked and I lived my life actively and relatively healthily!
This afternoon my circumstance shifted. During my quarterly bloodwork, I found out that my condition taken a turn for the worse and I would now need to rely on long term medication to keep it in check. The “necessary actions” that I had stuck to for decades were no longer sufficient.
In that instance, all the acceptance that I had since young evaporated. I started lamenting ‘why me?’. After which, I shifted into a self-berating mode with the typical ‘suck it up’… ‘you still have it better than most’… and more of those blah-blah narrative.
And then, I shifted again. This time to a self that was trying to explain and analyse the reason for my feeling this crappy – ‘was it pandemic fatigue that has me mentally and emotionally this weak?’
Finally, here I am; lying in bed and feeling completely drained. I type away on my iPad, pausing occasionally to listen to the rain. It is suddenly and unexpectedly calm.
I guess I can be the brave, strong and independent one again tomorrow.
For today, I think I’ll just be.
As I Walk 