Every time the seasons change I am convinced that my MS is going to kill me. That I did something to make everything so much worse and it’s the beginning of the end.  All the work, all the effort to stay as healthy as possible has been for naught.  I have failed and MS has taken control.

And then I remember that this happens every time the weather changes and to just give myself a break from the anxiety and panic and worry.  Easier said that done.  Isn’t that the truth about so many things?

It has been a long learned lesson that I still forget every few months.  Right now I’m dragging, my eyes tired and my brain short-circuiting like wires doused in water.  I’m praying that the temperature drops and stays low, because these forays back into the 70s kill me.  Every. Single. Time.

It’s a hard assignment – learning how to best live.  I don’t think it matters if you have an autoimmune disease or are just human.   Figuring out how to live — really live — is exceptionally hard.  There are pitfalls and doubts.  There are difficult questions you don’t know the answers to.  It feels scary and intimidating and never-ending.

And it comes back to a  simple question — Who am I?

Not “Who was I” or “Who do people think I am?” or even “Who do I want to be?”

Just … Who am I?

I have a million answers and none.  I breath in and breath out, my fingers hovering over the keys.  Who am I ….

Tough question.

xoxo, g