Happy

Happy

Happy (adjective)
feeling or showing pleasure or contentment

These days I am finding myself happy (and healthy) and sometimes it’s hard to say that out loud for fear the other shoe will drop.

In December 2016 I started taking sertraline for depression. It was the first time I had a really bad, spiraling night, that wasn’t related to the multiple sclerosis (but maybe it is because it’s a central nervous system disease), or being treated for a flare-up. I recognized that I needed help. I reached out to a long distance friend who helped me for as long as I needed it. I went to bed and the next day I went to see my neurologist. And when it came to treating this issue, I couldn’t care less about any stigma that society has about brain health. I didn’t think twice about treating the multiple sclerosis or taking medicine for asthma growing up. My only issue was worrying about side effects. And although I didn’t turn purple, boy did I spend weeks insanely nauseous while titrating up to the full dose.

Fast forward 1.5 years later, and about a month ago I realized the sertraline (and probably age) is likely slowing down my metabolism, which already works backwards, so I decided to split the dose in half. I did this on my own without consulting my neurologist, because I know my body. I also now know how I should feel most of the time (say 80/20 rule). And I can recognize the shit for what it is, and frankly most of the time I just don’t care about stupid stuff anymore. I think the 20%, as Gaga would say, Baby I was Born This Way. And you know what? I’m good with that.

So a bit of a long about route to say most days I wake up happy. I enjoy what I do professionally (and the people I work with) and am having wonderful life experiences (on my own and with loved ones). I feel better than I have since before I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis nine years ago. I’ve been so leery about saying the latter out loud, especially with my once every 18 to 24 month MRIs coming up next month. Feeling physically and mentally great also allows me to be the best I can be for the people I love and care for as well.

I spend way less time these days wondering when the shoes are going to come tumbling and I happily give the middle finger to the shit that just doesn’t matter.

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Birthday

birthday_balloons

Birthday (noun)
the anniversary of the day on which a person was born, typically treated as an occasion for celebration and the giving of gifts

On the eve of the close of another trip around the sun, I can’t help but reflect on the year gone by. Why is it as I finally get used to saying the previous number, the next number is jamming itself up against my face?

Staring at the last year of my 40s is so incredibly odd. It’s almost as if I wish I were turning 50 to get it over with already. At least then you get an AARP card and loads of discount. Forty-nine feels a little like Florida, or god’s waiting room as my people call it.

I find it interesting when people talk about the date of their diagnosis as being a rebirth of sorts. I still believe in celebrating the day I was born, but my diagnosis day is more about showing a big middle finger to MS and saying you ain’t takin’ me down.

So as I reflect on another trip around the sun, I look back on the good, learn from the challenges to inform the future, and embrace this messy, crazy adventure called life.

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