This is both a thank you. It’s also an update.
Thank you. No, really. To the friends and family that haven’t pitched our relationship in the bin, thank you. I’ve said it over and over about how I never thought I’d find myself here – so sick that I can’t do even the easiest of things; however, sigh, guess where I’m at? Yeah. There.
It’s like I’m straddling this quasi-nowhere-land of disbelief and anger. For those not familiar with the grieving process, there are five stages – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. This is, by no means, a lesson in that process except to say that it’s normal vacillate amongst all five stages in no particular order only to revisit certain ones from time to time. Heads up! Grief is always. It lessens in frequency but, often, although not always, not intensity.
And, that’s what I’m dealing with right now. I’m grieving my life as it was before when I had the freedom and expectation that I could do anything at any time with interspersed moments of sleep. I’m grieving a life without increasing pain. I’m grieving the ease of going to the doctor and the reasonable expectation that I’ll get answers and treatment. I’m grieving not being so tired that I care a lot less about the increasing fatigue. Caveat… grief and depression often accompany each other but ARE. NOT. THE. SAME. One thing I haven’t had to grieve? Mental stability. It’s still, miraculously, there.
Which is a good segue to something I didn’t expect – The Clarity I’ve Gained. The murkier the diagnostic process gets with the waters of recovery getting deeper and deeper the further from the shores of “normal living expectations” is when the clarity began to show. Relationships and the things that are important become incredibly bright against the darkness of those deep waters. The less important gets tossed as the waves get bigger as they are wont to do once you’re out to sea.
So, THANK YOU. If you’ve chosen to stick with me throughout this seemingly never-ending and desperately frustrating process, y’all deserve fucking MEDALS and a PARTY. Although, those of y’all that have been with me for over 20 years know that surviving one of my parties should come with a T-Shirt. Trust me. I will make this happen once I’m on the other side of whatever is making me so damn sick that my social life is replaced with rest because I know I shouldn’t get behind the wheel of a car.
Something I didn’t expect nor would I have thought possible unless it was happening RIGHT NOW… I still have a job waiting for me. And, damn and wow… I’ve never wanted to go to work MORE. This is the kind of job that makes all of the seemingly extraneous information and education I’ve learned worth it. It’s exactly what an INFJ is made to do. We’re the ones that fight the good fight from the inside AND the outside. Just for perspective, this is the kind of job that I’ve only considered the salary on the page to be secondary to the job itself. (Once Upon a Time) When I taught figure skating was the only other time that I felt the same way about the dollar signs.
Those that know me from skating days whether you were on the ice with me or just in my life know that skating was the electricity in my heart and mind. It kept me going on so many fronts.
And, I have a job waiting for me that gives me the same feeling.
That’s how sick I’ve gotten.
I KNOW how lucky I am to have all of this wealth… not referring to dollar signs but people that care, opportunities waiting, and access to care that will, eventually… I hope, an answer in time to treat whatever it is that’s stealing my vitality and ability.
Of course, I know one thing that I haven’t mentioned… my husband. He’s still sticking with me. He’s still mine despite the front row seat. No one wants to watch this show let alone be cast in it… but here we are… still trying as a team.
I’m sure we’ll be back to spontaneous calls that you’ll answer with a smirk thinking, “Oh, no. What are we doing NOW?! Please, don’t let it be a road trip.”