August, 2024
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Here today
Last year in August, hubs and I were preparing to host guests for multiple weekends. We’d worked long and hard to make sure each guest room was practically perfect in every way. It’s funny to be repeating the same action this year – moving into a new house – while having a completely different experience. Boxes sit unpacked in hallways. Random assortments of ‘things’ piled on top of other ‘things’ sit in closets, in bathrooms. I have lost all ability to human. I am struggling to surface, to survive. There is nothing resembling ‘thriving’ at the moment.
I’m not sure if my body was running on adrenaline for seven months or if I was just handling stress better (I’m pretty sure it’s the former) but I have crashed and burned, skidded out spectacularly like a wrecked car on a race track. Even the things I held onto – the things that got me through the dark, cold early months of this year offer little solace. I don’t have the energy or focus to get to yoga every day. I can barely get out of bed sometimes. Is this an MS thing? I wonder too often. I blame my disease because it’s easier – because it makes sense to others, and honestly to myself. When the truth is that I’m just bottoming out. The stress has been too much. I have arrived. My body is done fighting.
We have reached the final destination. We have no more storage units or PODS or belongings tucked into my father’s house. We are here. Eli is here. All our stuff (and there is a tremendous amount of stuff) is here. And my body and my brain are done.
Yesterday I found old writing and I have fallen into a deep trance – enamored with this former version of myself who wrote so well. Who so elegantly evoked such strong feelings from decrepit old me. Who was this sad young girl? Did she not know she was brilliant? How did I so exquisitely waste all her talent? It makes my heart sad.
I am tired. Bone deep tired. Exhausted. Fatigued.
This is a side of MS I work hard to avoid. But it has enveloped me. I hope – as husby and I work piece by piece to put our life back together – that I somehow also manage to heal myself.
Xox, g