Carnival of MS Bloggers #112

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

Acceptance: Anger, Uncertainty, and Murphy's Law

Get Mad, Get Really Mad 

by msrecess  

“That’s so annoying.”  Those were the words I found myself saying to Mom today on the phone while she talked about an issue she was having with her ankles today.

As I was talking to her, something happened.  Instead of trying to solve her issues or getting sad myself, I told her ”that’s so annoying, Mom.”  And I just kept at it, like I was talking to a friend who was having a whole bunch of bad luck.  Taking the MS out of the equation.  I chimed in with her frustration and you could hear how frustrated I was for her in my voice.  Strangely enough, I think it helped.  In that moment I was on her side.  I wasn’t saying you should do this, you should try this, Mom it could be worse.  Instead I was on her side and I was mad at MS for her.  I was mad at life for her.

If I think of when I am having a period of bad luck and people tell me “it will be okay”…sometimes you just really want them to get mad with you.  Show you that you’re not alone and your feelings are justified.  As a self proclaimed ”problem solver” I have a tendency to try to fix these things before I allow myself to sometimes really understand what someone needs.  Sometimes people don’t need a solution, they don’t need a positive spin, they just want someone to get mad at life with them.  Without knowing this you actually help them more by not trying to fix their problem than fixing it.

So today I got mad at MS.  I got mad with Mom.  We chimed in together about how this is so annoying.  How much this sucks.  How Mom just can’t win.  It felt good.

Lesson learned: I think I will get mad at MS more often.

I Want to Scream 

by msrecess 

I feel overwhelmed. I feel frustrated. I feel upset. I feel mad. I feel hurt.  I feel so many things that my initial reaction to them is to ignore them.  I like to think I am pretty good at dealing with problems head on but this one won’t go away.  There is also no end in sight.  It’s a problem that I can’t discuss with many people nor do I want to discuss it with many people.  My mom has MS and it sucks.  It absolutely sucks.  I can’t get a handle on it.  I can’t.  I am admitting it.  I don’t even know where to begin to get a handle on it because it is constantly changing.  There are new symptoms, new emotions, new issues to tackle, constantly new.  They also aren’t my symptoms.  They also aren’t symptoms I totally understand.  They are new terms and phrases.   MS also brings decisions that aren’t mine to make.  They are Mom’s to make.  I have no control over a situation that is infiltrating every ounce of my life.  My lack of knowing what to do is driving me crazy.  I literally sit as my head fills with thoughts and have no idea what to do.  I just want to curl back into my shell and do nothing.  I just want this to go away. I just want to scream.

I Feel the Earth...Move... 

by CJ of my MonSter Stories

Today was one of "those" days - when it seems as though someone might be sticking a probe in random areas of my brain and saying "Watch what happens when I do this!"  It was a very active day for what my neurologist calls "paresthesias", odd sensory disruptions that include tingling sensations and numbness, feelings of vibrations and/or electrical sensations in one or more body parts or my entire body, reduced sensation or heightened sensation.

At times, walking was difficult due to the intermittent numbness of the front part of my right foot combined with the sensation that I was stepping on golf balls.  Because of tingling and incoordination, I couldn't get my thumb and fingers working well enough to  pick up the dime and nickel to use for the parking meter.  Talking on the telephone was a problem because I was getting a shrill sound coming and going in my left ear and then my hearing would be diminished for several minutes at a time.

Sometimes the vibrations were so noticeable that I watched to see if other folks would say anything because I was sure we must be having an earthquake!  While sitting in a chair it felt as if the floor were vibrating beneath my feet and I could feel the sensation go through my body.  I was certain that everyone else had to be experiencing it too.

While preparing for bed, I was standing in the bathroom brushing my teeth.  Suddenly I felt the familiar rush of fatigue and weakness wash over me and it felt as if my entire body, to the core, had turned to Jell-O.  I've learned that it can happen at anytime, regardless of my level of activity, and there is nothing I can do to prevent it, fight it, or stop it.  I must lie down and do nothing...and so...I am.....

(Reposted by permission © Post by CJ Taylor.  Photo from NASA)

Grocery Shopping with MS Meets Murphy’s Law 

by Dave of Dave's ActiveMSers Blog 

I’ve never liked that guy, Murphy, always showin’ up at the most inopportune of times in multiple sclerosis. Like last week, when I ventured out to grocery shop for a 10-person dinner party (one that catered to a) vegetarians and b) people allergic to onions, but that’s for another story). All seemed pretty darn smooth when I arrived at the store. I even got the chance to park next to an empty handicapped spot, which I always try to do if one is available—someone may need that extra access far more than I do. And then that dude showed up. Murphy. There was just one available scooter… and the battery was just about dead.

When I grocery shop these days I usually use one of the store’s Hoverounds. It saves the MS legs for needed work later in the afternoon and it prevents me from having to ask the staff to hunt down a chair for me if I bonk an hour into my shop. And that conversation always goes like this: “Chair? Why? I don’t think we have one.” I nod. “That’s okay, I’ll sit on the lettuce. It’s softer than the apples or potatoes.” A chair usually shows up rather quickly.

Of all days I really needed to save the legs, today was that day. I couldn’t wait and come back later—the rest of the afternoon was slated for mandatory cooking and dinner prep for the weekend. Worse, I had a big haul to get and Laura had just run out of allergy medicine at the peak of allergy season. So I came up with a plan. Using the near-dead scooter, I’d hit the pharmacist (located at the opposite end of the store from the fresh fruit and veggies) and then switch to a push cart and hustle. No prob, right? Wrong.

“Your prescription isn’t ready.” Fudge. The scooter was wheezing and I was at the wrong end of the store. So I plugged the scooter in at the pharmacy and waited. “The doctor hasn’t called us back, so we’ll page you when it’s ready.” Holy bat guano, Batman. So off I go back to the front of the store to drop off the electric slug only to get paged midway. Mother Mary Joseph Stalin. Turning around, I crept back to the pharmacy, plugged ‘er back in, and picked up the allergy meds. Could I make it back with the extra few minutes of bonus juice? Would I stall out in the middle of store, stranded? Should I cut my losses and just hit the beer aisle?

I finally made it back to the cart corral averaging 0.2 mph; I could have crawled faster. But I saved my leg gas for the main shop and I was ready to motor. And motor I did. It didn’t even bother me that they were out of cans of chicken broth—how does that happen?—and the first 48-oz box I picked up leaked broth all over me. (And for those wondering, “Dave, chicken broth has both a) chicken and b) onions,” don’t ask. The vegetarian makes an exception for broth and for some reason processed broth does not trigger the other’s onion allergy.)

So I swept down the aisles in blazing time, tossing items in the basket like Jordan raining threes. I finished, forgetting not a single item, and my legs still had ample power. Screw Murphy, I thought. I didn’t even have to pee. Oh, wait—I shouldn’t have thought that. The bathroom is on the total other end of the store. By the pharmacy. Murphy is such the a-hole.

“What are you doing back here, Mr. Bexfield?” I shooed off the smiley pharmacy staff as I focused on my destination. AND THAT DUDE WHO WAS ABOUT TO TAKE THE ONLY BATHROOM. “Dude!” He let me go first. Murphy, finally, had officially left the building.

I strolled back to the front, checked out with a gazillion Monopoly pieces (part of the store’s promotion), certain that one held the $100,000 grand prize. “It’s a million dollars, actually,” the clerk said. Double cool. And then I saw a woman my age with a family member (brother, husband?) who was in wheelchair unable to control it himself. “Are you playing Monopoly?” I asked. She was. I gave her my stack of tickets and walked out to my car. She soon followed me out… to her accessible van in that last handicapped space.

Thanks, Murph, sometimes you aren’t so bad after all.


This concludes the 112th edition of the Carnival.  The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on April 26, 2012. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, April 24, 2012.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Carnival of MS Bloggers #106

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

Gratitude, Anger, Nostalgia, Freedom, Balance

A Small Stone: Jan 13, 2012

by Laura of Shine the Divine

.שַׁלָ נְעָלֶיך, מֵעַל רַגְלֶיך--כִּי הַמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר אַתָּה עוֹמֵד עָלָי, ואַדְמַת קֹדֶש-הוּא

Take off your shoes from your feet, the place your are standing upon is holy.

(Exodus 3:5)

I look down at my two seemingly ordinary feet, veined with time standing firmly on my favorite yoga mat, the sunshine yellow one that has traveled many miles in the past to retreats and teacher trainings, to classes and workshops where I too have had the privilege of being called teacher. This mat rolled like a scroll in the corner of my bedroom, waited ever so patiently for my body to be well enough to return to its sticky, yielding surface. Now unfurled lovingly, naked soles press down, I hear a voice resonating deep within: the place you are standing upon is holy—this is no ordinary moment, it is suffused with healing, pay attention, be present.

For one who has struggled fiercely with standing and walking over these three years since being diagnosed with MS, this place is indeed kadosh, holy. I am grateful.

I'm an Angry Bird

by Karen of My MS Journey (MS stands for Miss Sexy, right?)

When I was a bereavement counsellor, I had a client who was "stuck" in her grief and at every session would wail "why me?"  As a non-judgemental counsellor it was my job to help her through these feelings but I have to be honest, there was a tiny part of me that sometimes thought "why not you?"

Fast forward a few years and as I face this new challenge of MS I have been all over the place with my feelings, even dipping into a little bit of "why me?" but as I thought of my client - why NOT me?

Of course it is only two short weeks since I was officially diagnosed but since my first Neurologist maaaaaaaaany years ago, the symptoms that I have been experiencing over the last couple of years fit MS so much that I suppose in some ways I had almost diagnosed myself.  It's fair to say it wasn't a surprise at all.

The day I was diagnosed was December 22nd and my Mum had flown in from Florida, where she lives, to spend Christmas with us.  That night as I was going to bed, after talking it all through, my Mum actually said to me that I needed to take this "more seriously" as it is in my nature to joke (I guess it is a coping mechanism).  Well, I have moved on from the jokes and now I am ANGRY!

Even though I had my suspicions I was also hoping it would be something like a trapped nerve or something that could be "fixed".  MS can't be "fixed" and each day seems to bring a new sensation and I am getting pissed off at the body that I have exercised and  looked after most of the time (with the odd burger and bottle of wine thrown in for good measure) for betraying me.

I lay in my bed at night feeling awful and I picture my brain, wondering what is going on in there?  Is more damage being done or are these symptoms a result of the lesions already there?

I am usually quite a happy person and I feel like I am turning into a grumpy, moody, weepy, pathetic person.  How annoying I must be to know right now.

I am also quite vain (which woman isn't?) so I wouldn't dream of leaving the house without my full face of make-up (including lashings of the very best under-eye concealer to hide these dark circles) so I LOOK alright to everyone, which of course is the goal when applying the cosmetics.  Then I get MAD that they can't tell how ill I feel.

I feel myself feeling frustration towards well meaning friends who tell me that it could be worse or how they know someone with MS that is doing great.  I KNOW this is coming from a loving place to make me feel better and I would probably say exactly the same thing to someone if the situation was reversed.  I want to say that I am NOT your Auntie Mabel and the reason that MS is referred to as the snowflake disease is that no two patients are the same and will experience their MS in a different way.

Of course, this is what I want to say but I wouldn't because at least these friends and family have offered support and said something. I am so thankful for each of my lovely friends and family who have offered support, listen to me moan about my symptoms (usually for the 100th time) and have never once made me feel like I am putting on them.

The people that have hurt (and angered) me the most are the ones that have said nothing at all but then I guess at times like this you discover who you can really lean on and who really cares.

I know that anger is part of the grieving process and as an ex-counsellor I know that when a person is diagnosed with a chronic illness they may go through all sorts of emotions of grief including denial, anger, depression and finally (hopefully) acceptance.

I am in the angry bird phase right now so I apologise in advance if I am a snappy cow-bag.  I hope I don't offend or push you away along the way. I really don't mean to be such a drag.

So, enough about me - how are YOU?

Commencement

by Robert of The Gifts of MS

I went outside this afternoon, to enjoy the finally warm Southern California weather. And I'm enjoying the air, and the sunlight, and the smell of the trees... and I look at the bits of Backyard Project that are undone thanks to not my usual lassitude, but to the ravages of The Disease. A workbench I used to use a lot... but don't any more. Potted plants that I used to care for more assiduously, but don't any more. Sometimes because even walking up to them is difficult, sometimes because standing and dealing with them is difficult, sometimes because both are too difficult; sometimes because standing and dealing with them is (maybe) dangerous or (usually) just plain non-doable.

For all of us, there are Things that were once part of our lives, but are no longer. Things whose time has come and gone. Some of those Things, we left behind because we had no choice—we would have hung with them longer, if we could, but that possibility simply didn't exist (for example, the college we left because we at long last graduated from it, and once you do that, you're outta there). Some Things we left behind because their time had come, and we knew it; and depending on our relationship with them, letting them go was bitter yet sweet, or Not! Soon! Enough!!!

And there are the Things that we would have loved to keep a relationship with. But the Things themselves decided that the time was up. Or, in our case, the whatever-it-was that brought The Disease to us decided that it was time for us to travel a different road; a road without those Things.

Now, what is it exactly, that makes the letting go of some of those Things easy, and some difficult? The Buddhists would call it "attachment," but even if that term explains it correctly, it doesn't really speak to the way those Things are hooked into the depths of our being.

I hated my college for the first two years, I loved it with an amazing love the final two years. I hung around for three years after I graduated from the college (two of those years in the master's program). But eventually, even I had to agree that the time had come for Something New. That it was time to let those Things go, beloved as they had been. And really, many of them, the part and parcel of the Undergraduate Experience, were already gone. They had departed when my diploma was signed, and delivered to me on the day of Commencement. And interesting choice of words, that... not an ending, but a beginning.

And here I am, surrounded by Things whose time—for the moment, at least—has come. And I am facing a barrage of "Commencements." In so many ways... even in the once simple tasks of standing up in the backyard, walking across the back yard. The ways I used to do those little Things... those trivial, quotidian, almost unnoticeable because of their simplicity, Things... for now, at least, they're gone.

Somehow, "commencements" were easier to take when you knew they were coming for years. When you worked your ass off to achieve them. I'm sure there are some who might say that I actually did work my ass off to position myself to travel the M.S. Highway (and I don't mean with regard to the huge amount of weight I've lost) in some sort of mystical, non-immunological/neurological way; that I chose these "commencements" for myself; as Marley's ghost told Scrooge, that I forged this chain link by link and girded it on of my own choosing.

So these are among the gifts of M.S.: Commencements. Delivered daily. Sometimes even hourly.

The past is over. Time to begin the new. The past created precisely what is necessary to deal with the present. We couldn't deal with the present if we hadn't lived through the past.

Which means that the greatest gift that M.S. gives us is the ability to deal with the M.S. Highway.

But oh, the past... the wonderful, wonderful past. Was it really that wonderful? I certainly like to think so...

But as a very wise friend once said, there are many paths to enlightenment; but nostalgia is not one of them.

A Small Stone: Jan 14, 2012
by Laura of Shine the Divine

A small stone: A steel-mixing bowl rings cheerfully as a handful of green peppers meet its surface; animal awareness perceives vegetable and mineral interaction as the ethereal sound of a singing bowl infusing the kitchen with good vibrations.

A pocket full of pebbles: This weekend we celebrate the remarkable devotion and sacrifice of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the many brave souls who also risked and gave their lives rallying around him. This Shabbat, we begin the book of Shemot, Exodus; an ancient journey to freedom that replays over and over again throughout time for nations, for individuals unfolding in unique ways. For me, freedom is not so heroic, but significant nonetheless for my beloveds and me.

Freedom tastes like vegetarian chili simmering on the stove. Vegetables chopped with my two hands, peppers, tomatoes, onions, garlic, cilantro, beans rinsed, cumin and cocoa sprinkled, lime squeezed--slowly...oh so slowly, not only because it is the speed at which I am able to attend to my work, but because this is how I know I am alive, this is how I honor the preciousness of the gift it is as a mother, strength and endurance improving, to prepare a meal for my family. A task that I’ve not been able to do completely from start to finish while standing and all at once without resting in between for four years. Freedom tastes like gratitude. Freedom tastes like love.

Un-tethered...this is the sensation I am experiencing. Released from my computer, my primary connection to the world beyond my windows and backyard for nearly four years. Freedom, I taste freedom as I putter about the house. Each day I MOVE away from the keyboard and 11inch screen to discover, recover, remember what I lived before, what it is to be a human doing, not just a human being. It is the reverse of what many long for, so many people tired of going, going, doing, doing, tied tight to the world beyond windows, yet for me this is a deep, deep blessing.  The key will be to find the balance between the two—being while doing. I’m only human after all.

I am not the way I was, will likely never completely regain what has been lost, unless someday a brilliant scientist or team learns how to regenerate damaged myelin, still, I am grateful for the strength that has been renewed at this time and continues to increase daily.  Baruch HaEchad. Blessed is the One.

“All progress is precarious, and the solution of one problem brings us face to face with another problem.” ~Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

And my thoughts return to balance. I miss being online, visiting my blogging friends who have become so dear to me. I must find a creative solution to balance my time on and offline; a tiny problem as problems go, no comparison to the challenges Dr. King was referring to, but still one I must face. These friendships are real and I do not want to cause more isolation in my life, forget about the kindness and support I have experienced from so many beautiful souls around the world. I don’t want YOU to feel that I have forgotten you or that I don’t care about your wellbeing, because I haven’t and I do. Where there is love, there is always a way…I will find it or it will find me, I have complete faith that this is true.

Well this pocket full of pebbles has grown into a cairn, fitting really, marking great achievements and small, gratitude, friendship, blessings and love.


This concludes the 106th edition of the Carnival.  The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on February 2, 2012. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, January 31, 2012.

Thank you.

Comments for this post.

Carnival of MS Bloggers #53

Welcome to the Carnival of MS Bloggers, a bi-weekly compendium of thoughts and experiences shared by those living with multiple sclerosis.

Happy New Year!!

Here we are in 2010. Wow. This will be the 3rd year in the Carnival of MS Bloggers' existence. Can you believe it?! We've had two years of brilliant writing and sharing by MSers of the blogosphere. Thank you so much for reading and for supporting each other with such open arms and hearts. MSers truly rock!

What The H***?
by Judy at Peace Be With You

What the H*** happened
to my life, the one I planned?
It’s sure not this one.

I’m used to making
lemonade out of lemons,
but this is too much.

There is gold here, yes,
but I tire of panning
and getting pebbles.

If MS Is A Gift, Where Do I Go To Return It?
by Zoomdoggies at Howling at the Moon

My mom always told me I had a bad attitude.

When I was a kid I never understood what she meant by that, but now I not only see what she was saying, I'm starting to think she may have been right. Particularly around the holidays, so many people seemed to be recounting the blessings conferred by MS, or some other chronic condition. It makes them a better person, brings them closer to God, deepens their appreciation for life, family, whatever. I suspect I should find these essays inspirational and thought-provoking. I find them thought-provoking, all right. They provoke me to wonder, "Are you f%#king nuts?"

I do not see anything good about having MS. Nothing. I do not feel blessed in any way. I do not see it as an opportunity to become a better person. I'm perplexed by the general assumption that, when you have a chronic disease, it's important to maintain a positive attitude. Why is that? Can somebody point me to some real, convincing evidence that positive thinking makes a rat's patoot worth of difference, to anything?

I'm not talking about wallowing in self-pity, here, making yourself and everyone around you miserable. I don't see any point in that, either (although I admit I do it sometimes. I try not to wallow, but sometimes I put my feet in and swish them around a little). But isn't it positive enough to take one day at a time, enjoy what you can, appreciate the good stuff, and just slog through the rest?

Projecting a relentlessly positive attitude is hard work. I know. I do it all the time. Most people who ask me how I am don't really want to know, not really. "I'm fine..." I say, "I'm good...", and we talk about something else. I wonder if forcing yourself to be artificially positive might even have a negative effect. I find it very stressful to pretend I'm OK when I'm not.

Inspirational affirmations make me itch. "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass; it's about learning to dance in the rain." "When life hands out lemons, squeeze out a smile."

"I have MS, MS does not have me."

I admit I'm being deliberately obtuse, here. I realize that the people who say this probably just mean they are determined to maintain a life outside of MS. They will not let the disease define who they are. That's all good. I try to do it myself. But every time I see this, what I hear is "If I fight hard enough, I can beat MS. I can keep it from changing my life."

Maybe you can. I hope you do. But I couldn't. MS has totally kicked my sorry butt. Maybe I should have fought harder. Maybe I wasn't positive enough.

I'm pretty sure MS has not made me a better person. When I finally had to retire from work, one of my coworkers told me, "You've been an inspiration to all of us as we see your courage and grace." It was such a nice thing to say, I only wish it were true. Have you ever noticed that obituaries always talk about fighting a brave battle against disease? I'm afraid mine will have to say I was a pitiful spectacle, a total cringing whining craven coward. I'm not being brave. If there were another option, I would take it. I'm just not aware of any.

I've even had people tell me "You're a survivor." I guess I am. We all are, aren't we? Until we aren't. Then we're dead. To borrow a headline from The Onion, "Despite Best Efforts of US Medical Profession, Death Rate Remains Obstinately High at 100%." Does being a survivor, when the only alternative is being dead, make me a better person? I'm not seeing it.

Maybe it's just my bad attitude.

-- Mme. Crabbypants

A Hero's Journey
by Judy at Peace Be With You

It’s okay to cry.
It’s not lack of bravery.
These can coexist.

Crying can free one.
Stolidness can imprison
a voiceless heart.

A hero’s journey
helps us to understand fear,
not avoid it.

Pity Party, Anyone?
by Mis at Just My Thoughts....

I talk about strength, coping, educating, and support here a lot. But, there's another side to living life with a disease like MS: Pity parties. It struck me after talking to a friend that the image I portray of myself here isn't entirely accurate. "But Mis, you're so strong". I hear that so often, and it always baffles me, because Lord knows I don't feel strong at all. Truth is, most days I am afraid of my own shadow and the shadows of my future. While I do want to encourage those either living with MS or know someone with it to empower themselves with the strength knowledge can give, I don't want to paint myself as some stoic pillar of strength either. So... today I want to bring you along to my pity party.

Yes, I most certainly DO have pity parties too. Most days I go about life in relative peace of mind, but some days I wake up and just think "URGH!" Thankfully, my pity parties don't last long. I spent the first six months post diagnosis in one huge pit of depression, and I learned from those dark days I can not allow myself to wallow in what is versus what used to be. These days my down spells typically last anywhere from a couple hours to couple days, but never very long overall. So why have pity parties at all? Simple really: Because I am human. I really believe anyone struggling in their life has the right to feel, process, and deal with those emotions. It's when we don't deal them that they grow into something much deeper and darker. I've been in that dark place, and I have no intentions of going there again if I can avoid it. For me, letting myself have "ok my life sucks" moments allows me to feel and process those emotions, and then move on.

My pity parties usually consist of a lot of sadness, and are usually brought on by a symptom worsening that particular day. Last night for instance, I had a small one. The left side of my face had been bugging me all day, my left leg simply did not want to work correctly no matter what I did, and I'd been having girdle band pain all day. I had gotten up to use the washroom and my leg just hurt so bad as I limped along. The muscles just refuse to relax sometimes, and trying to walk on a cramping leg is rather painful. My husband heard me cursing under my breath as I made my way through the living room, and asked what's wrong. My response? "I just don't want to have this damn disease anymore." The minute the words left my lips, it was like a flood gate. I ended up in the bathroom for a good 20 minutes just to have a good cry alone. I had had enough, I was in pain, I was frustrated, and I just didn't want to have this wicked, nasty disease anymore. Logically, I know no amount of tears or cursing is going to change a thing. I can curse up a blue streak bad enough to make a sailor blush, and I can cry so hard I fill the bathtub, and when it's all said and done I'll still have MS. But dang it, I don't care. Sometimes I just need a good crying, angry moment to let it all out. A moment to say "poor me, this sucks"...so I can then calm down and move on.

So while I don't want pity from anyone else, sometimes, I do have to allow myself a little pity party for myself. It's my way of coping and moving on without falling into a true depression. And you know what? I truly believe that's ok, if not healthy. Better to have a crying moment in the bathroom than months in depression, right?

For all of you struggling in your lives, be it due to MS, another illness, or simply life circumstances: Remember it's ok to have moments of weakness. It's ok to cry, and it's ok to be mad as hell. Allow yourself to have a little pity party when needed so you can process those emotions. Once you're done cursing and crying- leave the party and rejoin your life a stronger, calmer person. It's great to have strength the ability to cope with all life throws at you. But when you reach the point you're thinking "The next person to say 'but you're so strong!'...I'm going punch out", it's time to let yourself have a much needed pity party. It's ok to be human- even with all our flaws and imperfections.

Be well all :)
Mis

Expressing Anger 
by Judy at Peace Be With You

Anger is lethal
to the mind, body, and soul,
yet needs expression.

This powerful force
can also right many wrongs.
Safe release is key.

We MSers must
monitor which of the two
angers we express.

Finding Balance 
by Judy at Peace Be With You

So many brave ones
face crazy uncertainty
and never complain.

Many admit fear,
acknowledge they are so scared.
Which are better off?

Fear paralyzes.
Denial can do the same.
Somewhere balance lies.

This concludes the 53rd edition of the Carnival and the beginning of 2010!!

The next Carnival of MS Bloggers will be hosted here on January 28, 2010. Please remember to submit a post (via email) from your blog of which you are particularly proud, or which you simply want to share, by noon on Tuesday, January 26, 2010.
Thank you.

Comments for this post.