The totality of everything can be overwhelming. I wish that I had had my mind in order before receiving a diagnosis that made the totality of daily tasks sometimes truly and literally overwhelming. Sadly things don’t present themselves in the ways that we hope or *especially* in the ways that would make them easier to navigate. The optimist might suggest to me that “how else would you have us learn then?” There are probably a hundred ways that would be nicer or easier.
Today was a lot of time in my head. The Doctors were behind today. The roads were bad, so staying in the lobby was prudent (and necessary, I had hitched a ride in a 4WD truck and been dropped off). And at one point, understanding that the entire thing was only truly halfway through today, I pondered strongly “What the hell am I even doing?” And sometimes, navigating chronic illness is like that.
“What am I doing?”
“Is this worth it?”
Times like these are as inevitable as they are frustrating. It is hard enough being wired to be overwhelmed by a blank page or canvas. The totality – and possibility –of everything can be overwhelming. I am far from an expert, and this may be the exact wrong advice to give… I have no idea. It seems like the thing to do is to sit back and trust yourself. You’ve already done the thinking and the merit-weighing and whatever else needed to happen in order to come to the decision. Hopefully all of this happened when you were of a clearer mind. If you were, odds are the decision was sound and logical. Lean in. Trust yourself. The frustration of the moment where you feel maybe the struggle is not worth it is not a place to perform any sort of decision making.
The thing is… if you are playing solitaire with a deck of 51… you can never win. And so it is with chronic illness. You never fully win. You’re playing the game but the card you’re missing changes with every hand. Sometimes you’re missing a King and so you can get OH SO CLOSE to winning… which is simultaneously pretty great and pretty shitty. Sometimes, you’re missing the 6 of spades… which is also fine, because everyone knows that is the worst card. It’s addition by subtraction, you know. Sometimes, though, you’re missing an ace. You quite literally cannot progress further in the game than setting it up and playing through a couple of stacks. This is also fine! YOU’RE STILL PLAYING! You’re doing great. And as much as the day that you’re missing an ace sucks bad and makes you wonder if playing solitaire is even worth it without a full deck… the fact remains, you have made the best choice that you can… and you may ALMOST win tomorrow. Just keep swimming.
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