If You Can't Say Anything Nice...

So honesty is tough. It requires a lot of effort to look at where you are and admit that sometimes you've descended into a dark place, acknowledge that is where you are and figure out how to climb out of it with a modicum of grace. I was naive when I started this journey that it would be a straight shot from diagnosis to the end - and I would stand somewhat aloof from everything that was happening,  accepting the inevitable and watching the process with something akin to the detached view of an anthropologist observing the habits of a Pygmy tribe. Of course reality dictates that there is no detachment, though in retrospect the initial shock seemed to spare me the slow absorption of the knowledge that everything has shifted. Initially everything sounded more imminent, in part because there was no real baseline to compare to - but over the last four months, nothing has really changed from a clinical perspective and it has left me perplexed and anxious about what I am supposed to do now. And from there I landed in a space where I wanted to stand on the edge of the ocean and scream into the wind until my voice left me...where watching everybody moving forward and living their lives - the very smallest moments and experiences - filled me with a deep and profound resentment. In a nutshell, I felt intensely and utterly sorry for myself - which is a very nasty feeling indeed. It is hard to confess that I felt that way - because I feel a deep need to do this right - to be cheery and zen-like - not to lose perspective or let myself drown in self-pity. I know the resentment is not really attached to anyone else, but more the lack of control over how my future might unfold and simmering anger at myself for not being strong enough to prevent this in the first place. So the only way I know how to get over this is to stop putting off the things I need to do to get my proverbial house in order, sorting out the things I can control and drag myself out of the inertia. It is a slow and painful climb and if adversity is a great teacher then it is time for those lessons to kick in...and in the words of Sue Townsend in my treasured Adrian Mole diaries recognize that a short, sharp shock may be just what I need to move on.