I’m done with MS. I don’t want it anymore.
Of course, I never wanted it in the first place, and I have spent the last decade trying desperately to live with it, accept it, embrace it, even to love it as part of who I am. But there can be no love in this relationship, not really. It’s all very one-sided. I spend my life tiptoeing around my MS, trying my best to appease it and make compromises that I don’t want to make. But all I get in return is abuse and feelings of failure, frustration and never-ending disappointment.
Unfortunately, you can’t divorce yourself from something like MS, it clings on tighter than a tick to a deer.
I’m trying to recall a time when my MS has made me feel this low. I came close in the year of my diagnosis. I came close when I was pregnant for the 2nd time and had foolishly ditched my happy pills. I came close last year, before lockdown, when I felt the weight of my MS more than ever after a relapse left my leg in a state of permanent semi paralysis. And here I am now – facing a tough hill to climb. I am full of expectations that can’t be met. I want to walk my kids to school but can’t. I want to cycle around the fields surrounding my village but can’t. I want to run around the park with my children but can’t.
I hate being this negative. When MS nudged its way into my life, I made a promise to myself that I would focus only on what I can do, not what I can’t. Easier said than done. I know full well that being negative does nothing but damage when you have a chronic condition. But it is incredibly difficult to climb out of this unhappy hole once you have fallen into it.
However, I will get out of it. I have to, if for no other reason than my children.
I am making the first (wobbly) steps to pick myself up. I’ve gradually opened up a bit to family so that they know that I need (even) more support than usual. I’ve had a call from Tony from Mental Health Services. I have my MS nurses and my GP on high alert. And I have my counsellor. But ultimately there is only really one person who can pull me back, and that’s me.
Heeeeaaaavvvvvveeeeeeee. Ouff. Can someone give me a leg up?