I am writing you this letter because you seem to be ignoring every positive or constructive thought you have at the moment, I have no idea why because you’re normally a glass half full kind of gal …you sort of feel as though you’ve lost that bit of glitter that you always polished stuff with don’t you? I know you would never admit this in person, hence why I am sat here writing a letter to you, because I know there is no way on this planet you’d say all of this out loud, or even in the first person, as that would be a far too obvious admission that you weren’t currently bringing your “A Game”.
I’ve been trying to figure out what it is that’s making your days seem that little bit longer and your normally giddy excited school kid” approach to weekends seem like an act. And I know sometimes it is an act because it’s easier to keep a smile on your gob and always say “you are ok”, go on the night out and smile for the camera, than really dig deep and admit that you may be finding it a bit tough at times.
I know you took a short cut today and drove through the hospital where you got your diagnosis, and got stuck in traffic and could not avoid staring at the building and thinking…. Yup, you were faced head on with thoughts you keep locked in a box somewhere in the back of that skatty brain of yours. And then for some reason I know you stupidly started crying, yes crying like a divvy, because the biggest curve ball you’ve been thrown in your 33 years came as you were sat in that building, that you ended up being stuck in front of for what felt like an eternity, because the short cut was actually not really a short cut. Serves you bloody right.
I would guess that when you got home you hoovered your house from top to bottom to within an inch of its life, at one point I know you even started hoovering the soil off your grass like a mad women with the neighbours finally thinking you’d lost the plot, I know you then done every job around the house you’ve been putting off for like “forever” because anything was better than stopping, sitting down and thinking about the next bit….
You see Rach, I also haven’t forgotten that 1 year ago today, it was in that building that the neurologist confirmed that you 100% had Multiple Sclerosis. And I know this date is your least favourite of this year so far. Obviously they had told you they were 99% sure, but it was this exact day last year that that Dr, with his green tie, sleeves scruffily rolled up to his elbows, holding a posh looking silver pen with a gold lid, took away that little bit of hope you had that they had got it “allllll wrong” and you didn’t have this stupid brain disease that no one can cure or give you a magic pill to fix… I know that 1 year ago today, you felt like someone was sat on your chest and you couldn’t breathe, but that you were too afraid to show it and still are, because your mum was sat there devastated and doing her best not to show you…. and I know you felt as though it was all your fault.
So, you see I know you are feeling and thinking all of this, but that sometimes it’s really hard to get it down on paper, or say it out loud…because Rachel, you are a stubborn “think you’re hard” stupid ass whopper who needs to accept that she doesn’t have to be the bionic women 100% of the day, every day.
So, you just keep on going, enjoying yourself and doing what you do and being the chirpy upbeat person you want to be, and I know you try your hardest to focus on the fact that there are so many people in so much more unfortunate positions than you and try and remind yourself daily of all the amazing things you need to be thankful for.
And that’s it really, I just thought it may help you, or someone else who may also have days or moments like this, to read that it is ok. That even if you don’t know how to make things feel better, somehow or another you will figure it out… and that the “A Game” that’s got you through pretty much all the shitty parts so far, is just under the surface and will work its way back up to the top pretty soon.
Until then, please be a little bit kinder to yourself, and stop being so disappointed in yourself for feeling like MS is winning and beating you a little bit, because my dear, it isn’t and never will. This “bitter sweet” anniversary was always gonna come and as soon as it came, is as soon as it will be gone. And I guarantee you’ll be worrying about them long lost lipsticks that never make it home after a night out, and the calories in your avocado brunch even though everyone tells you it’s a “healthy fat honest”, before you know it…
Remember and don’t you forget, that you’re as strong as that out of date block of Stilton you found hidden in the back of your fridge from Christmas, and that “fakin’ it till ya make it” hasn’t done you much harm yet…
Lots of love your inner sensible conscious that appears every now and again
P.S. I know you are also going to accompany a selfie to this blog post (see below) that will bear no resemblance to your current puffy eyed panda wearing mis-matching pjs and fluffy socks look that you are currently working like a pro…