The Sort of Half of Hope

I hope you took the time to watch that. I’m sure most of you didn’t.

Sometimes I feel like my disease leaves me with only half of my former self. Only half of what I used to be able to do. Half of the mom I should be, the wife I should be, the friend I should be,even half of the human I should be. Then I read a post from a fellow RSD’er that reminded me that our disease holds one of the highest rates of suicide that there is among chronic illnesses and I am just thankful that I never felt quite that desperate, that alone or felt quite so mad at my condition. Sure, I get sad. Sure I get mad. {I get mad a lot!} Got mad at myself yesterday when I did something really stupid because of my disease (it hurt!).  I get mad when I lose my balance easily or drop things because I can’t hold them. I get mad because I can’t go to my kids things if it gets too cold or even too windy or too hot or if it’s going to be too noisy. I get really mad when I have to cancel dates with my friends.  And I get even madder that this disease has cost my family our life savings. “Stupid disease!” I get sad when I can’t eat the things that I used to love or wear the things that I used to treasure all because of this thing that has changed my nervous system and how my body functions until the day that a cure is found.  I’m sad because *that* half of me is gone. But if this new half is all I’ve got left to give, I’m going to fight to make damn sure it’s the best half I’ve got to offer. Fortunately for me, I get to do it surrounded by some of the best family and friends any single  person was ever blessed with, people who certainly don’t seem to mind the half that is left and usually they are enough to  make me feel pretty whole again.

RSD can be very isolating so sometimes I just need to remind myself of one of my favorite quotes. It never fails to make me get off my bum and get moving. Half or not.

A ship is safe in harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.
–William Shedd