August 18, 2011

Swing low, sweet chariot...

Whew. These mood swings do lay a girl low. I'm already hepped up on antidepressants and yet I sink, lower than a frog's belly. Nothing tastes of anything to me. Music bores me. Sex is uninteresting (well, I'm numb, so, what do I expect?). Even the thought of a hot bath is too much.
I find myself oversensitive, tired of speaking to people, yet hungry for company and distraction. My body aches. I want chocolate but can't taste it.  I want wine, but it has no flavour.
It would all make me quite desperate except that I know it's just another sneak attack from the MS - I've been having more difficulty with my balance and my walking, so I know something sinister is afoot, and I expect the darkness in my soul is just a part of that.
I'm hoping to avoid the incontinence thing - it's a rare problem but when it occurs I am desperate beyond measure. I live in dread of wandering about, smelling vaguely of pee, yet I know when and if it does happen, I'll just have to dig deep and keep going on. Like those books that are proliferating everywhere that say "Keep calm and carry on". Or "Eat cupcakes and carry on", which I prefer. I might be able to taste a cupcake.
I know a woman who has terminal cancer. She's not in pain yet, she knows she is going to die soon. She is the most cheerful person I know - handles it all with aplomb, is kind and sweet to all, is the sort of woman who says I love you to her spouse 10 times in one phone conversation. I'm trying to learn from her, as I pray for her. I wish I had her jollies.
Ah, I'm probably just pooped from entertaining folks. And other, grimmer events. I'm sure it will pass, because I just heard a seagull scree outside my window and I had to step out into the cool night and feel the breeze on my skin. I can feel little cheery sunshine lines springing up from my heart. they're faint, as yet, and if I let myself think over the events of today, I'll squash them out. So instead, a cup of tea, some mindless entertainment, and early to bed - and the hope for a sunshinier tomorrow. It's about time for this roller coaster to head up again.






4 comments:

Anonymous said...

tough times. a time out, a cup of tea, a cleansing breath, and somehow we go on till the next sunrise.
walk in beauty.

Anonymous said...

tiredness and feeling overwhelmed can catch up to you for sure. A time out, a cup of tea, a deep cleansing breath and on to the next sunrise.
walk in beauty.

Judy said...

Here's an important difference between someone with terminal cancer and someone with MS. Both are life sentences, but with the former the term is likely to be short and with the latter it might be quite long. I think we judge ourselves unfairly when we compare our situation to others which have either a short duration or a fixed quality to them. MS is ever changing. It is hard to really get through the grief stages on something that creates new losses to grieve every day.

Judy

me said...

I agree with Judy (MS is grieving over and over without end). And I'm with ya on your post. It's time for the roller coaster to head up (or, as I usually put it - the wheel to turn}.