I've been up since 4 this morning. I couldn't sleep one minute more, and believe me I tried. I woke up at 3 but refused to let myself get up until 4 -- that is the earliest I will get out of bed. I had too many things rolling around in my head and my bed to sleep any longer. The dogs were hogging the majority of my bed, leaving me only a sliver on the edge to dangle off of, I was hot, my mouth tastes terrible from the antibiotics (reminiscent of the dreaded "steroid mouth"), I had a song from Sunday school stuck in my head, and I couldn't stop thinking of Denver Refashionista. In between singing to myself, "1 2 3, Jesus loves me, 1 2 he loves you too..." I thought of what she is going through and how not jealous I am of those going through the hideous early stages of coping after finding out you have MS. That first year was hell, and I can't say it got much better until a ways into my second year. Ugh, the horror of the first anniversary -- how does one "celebrate" that? I am glad she is looking into getting help, and the comments everyone left for her were really good. I was going to suggest employee assistance for mental health care, that is how I found my therapist, whom I adore. I tried so hard that first year to be brave and put up a happy/accepting-of-my-fate front that backfired on me. It was a hard painful lesson that taught me to not pretend for anyone or anything. While cooling my heels in the loony bin, coloring fuzzy posters with non-toxic markers, and painting wooden trains and animals, I had plenty of time to realize I was doing no one -- least of all myself -- a favor by pretending to be peachy keen, jellybean. That was when I did one of my favorite things: I took a solemn vow that I would never pretend to be anything I am not. While digging through the pile of non-toxic paints to paint yet another cat, a big, fat, hideous, red thing propositioned me.
Red Thing: I tink you awe weawy cute. Would you have thex wiff me? (I think you are really cute. Would you have sex with me?)
Me: No. Never.
Red Thing: Newer? (Never?)
Me: (laughing) NEVER!!
I went back to painting my wood and he moved on to the next female he could find. It was rumored that he had molested a child (he was obviously very slow with major mental issues) but no one would ask him because we didn't want to have to kill him and spend the rest of our days locked up.
So what is the point of all this? Not really sure, but I think it was to be with your emotions, don't try to hide/pretend/repress how you are feeling and get help if you need it. If I had I wouldn't have such lovely scars on my wrists, which lucky (??) for me the razor blades were rusty and not so sharp. Besides, DR has a really cool name, which I am very jealous of, having just a run-of-the-mill name, is strikingly beautiful, again I am jealous, and does that really cool stuff with old clothes. My mom was really impressed with that, she is into sewing and embroidery and has embroidered things on clothes, towels, blankets, and anything else that would let her, for me. I have my initials on everything except my bloomers and she would probably do those if I wanted her to. You are part of a group that is willing to help out our brethren in anyway we can, if only to talk to and relate to. A pretty great group from what I have seen so far. So, please, lean on any one of us (hope it is safe to talk for us all) as you need to, and that goes for anyone struggling with MS. You can always count on me to be here, I may not have any earth shattering advice to dole out, but I am such a bumbling iijt that it may make you feel better to not have my life.
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