2 July 2007

I had sort of vowed, privately, not to write negative stuff, largely on the basis that I no longer need to. I also, at the outset, vowed to use this as a medium for expressing how I truly feel. Today, those two vows present me with a problem, and I know which one wins.

This morning I felt very negative. The situation with the suicide bombers has undoubtedly contributed – so the natural reticence to having my routine disrupted by these irritating ticks turns into wondering if it’s all worth the effort. Let me try to explain.

I’m not sure what a relapse is, to be honest. The doctors have told me it’s only ex post facto that you can even say if and what, and so on. So anyway, this morning I set out just fine for the station, a bit of aching in my neck (which seems to be an everyday first thing in the morning type of occurrence) but otherwise ok. About half way, there I was dragging my feet and struggling just a bit to keep going.

So it runs through my mind, as things do, what’s the point? What is the fucking point of it all? Aside, of course, from my boys and Charlotte. But then that is also part of the problem. Can I really ask so much of anybody? What about when it gets worse – which seems to be the only thing they DO know about MS. It all seems pretty bleak.

So I try to be positive, and most of the time succeed. In truth, most of time I don’t think about it at all. I’m lucky, I guess, that my conscious mind tends to focus exclusively on one thing at a time. So under normal circumstances I don’t think about the MS at all. But sometimes, when I contemplate going somewhere, like anywhere, it comes into sharp relief. That in itself is a sad and somewhat depressing thought.