Stride Forward, Shake off the Mud

In 2016 the brain damage that was first thought, in 2008 to be stroke related, then maybe MS, then maybe, then maybe, then maybe... was finally diagnosed as Binswanger's Syndrome which has no cure but mental deterioration can be slowed. According to wikipedia, "Symptoms include mental deterioration, language disorder, transient ischemic attack, muscle ataxia, and impaired movements including change of walk, slowness of movements, and change in posture. These symptoms usually coincide with multiple falls, epilepsy, fainting, and uncontrollable bladder."

I have no difficulty believing this as I had to look up how to spell Deterioration, but I could remember to look up alternatives for decay so I am still in here. I will admit because it feels it should be said, that yes I have difficulty controlling my bladder, but I am grateful that I more often than not make it to the bathroom at this point; I am oddly relieved to know there is a solid medical reason. Now I know why I have difficulty walking and why I fall so often.

In January 2017 I lost my job because side effects were beginning to affect my work and attendance. After six months of review I was determined to be disabled by the retirement board for my previous employer and now am fortunate enough to receive disability retirement; like most retirements that is less than half of what I made while working so allows about $120-150 after rent is paid for me to feed myself, my dog and pay gas, lights, and internet. I am working on alternatives and know that they will take time.

Because I lost my job, in February 2017 I lost my house. When you have no income you cannot make mortgage payments.

The last three months I have had more days than I care to admit where I did not want to get out of bed; it was so hard to move past the fear and sorrow and anxiety that fills my head.

Many things have struck me recently though including the fact that I claim to want to be a writer yet I do not write. Soon enough I will lose the ability to write. This cannot be faced without rage or I was never really a writer to begin with.

So there will be no more curling up and to binge Sherlock Holmes while fiddling with Sims until I have written. If I can get on my computer to play then I can write first.

I have had some realizations:

• Today I have a place to live; many in the world and even in the US are homeless.

• Today I have electricity; my brother has been without power for over a week in Florida.

• Today I can write a word of encouragement even if no one reads it; there are those that have no words of hope within them.

 For no reason other than divine intervention today I read through blogs poems and short stories I have written and or posted in the past. I started a blog called OnionLogic with a friend a couple years ago, I do not remeber how to get on and edit or post to it. All I could do at the moment is post what I had shared there on this blog. 

Edmund Burke was a wise man. Among a great many amazing things, he said, “Nobody made a greater mistake than he who did nothing because he could do little.”

I realized that I am guilty. Guilty of believing it is my right to give up. Guilty of not trying to be even a small difference in a sad and lonely world. Guilty of believing that whatever joy or little wisdoms I have been given need not be shared. Guilty of refusing to make this world a better place.

No more. I have heard the siren call of Sara B., “Don't run, Stop holding your tongue, Maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live, Maybe one of these days you can let the light in, Show me how big your brave is.”

This is my chance to practice what I preach, I have always said smile at everyone you meet and use duct tape if your words cannot be kind or supportive. I am not gone yet and I will not be silent any longer. I may not post every day, but once a year or two is not acceptable any longer, enough wallowing.

Time to shake off the mud and stride forward.