It’s 10 years since MS invaded my life.
10 years of drastic changes, friendships severed, relationships unable to withstand, people carrying on and life moving away.
10 years of slow disability which in essence feels like aging sped up. I’m nursing home level disabled in a relatively young 52 year old brain.
A brain capable of critical thought, artistic finesse, and linguistic complexity. A brain actively needing and wanting a life and activity which my body is incapable of. Period.
A brain which remembers all too well the pleasure of walking on a beach or up a mountain… or simply to the store and carry anything as I walk… or even more simply, to the bathroom. Yes, every basic human need, I have to have someone help me in some way.
I’m tired. After 10 years of trying to lead a life of love, happiness and fulfillment, I’m tired.
Tired of being frustrated working 10 times harder for simple tasks.
Tired of watching people leave me behind and continue on with life… without me.
Tired of dreaming and in it I’m walking only to wake in a bed I can’t get out of without help.
A burden, mostly. Something to take care of.
I’m going to create as it’s all I have, but I’m not trying to join society anymore. I don’t care if I sell art. I don’t care if anyone sees it.
I often yell at my chest to just STOP BREATHING ALREADY … but they, my heart, my kidneys and liver all… great shape.
No, I have to wait it out. So as I do, these missives and arts are my final will and testament.
So be it.