The Enigma File

When I think wishfully about what I'd like to be, on those days where I'd like to be Audrey Hepburn or a famous writer or French or live in a lighthouse, I like to think of myself as an enigma too. Unfortunately nothing could be further from the truth in many ways. I'm a people pleaser, I like people to like me, but I try to be honest with a hefty dose of kindness. I don't take criticism very well - actually that's not true, I take it very well, straight to my heart and keep it there as a tormenting hot water bottle. I always have a sarcastic quip or a funny comment.

However, I'm an enigma about rules. I work best within them, I'm not a natural rule breaker, in fact I'm a bit of a scaredy cat. However, occasionally I just want to break them. Which is what I'm doing. I set my own rules about the blog, I'd post on certain days and about certain things and then this weekend I thought stuff that for a game of soldiers, I don't want to do that anymore.

So I won't.

Instead it's going to be like a little surprise every time you get here. You won't know if it's going to be misery or fun, celebrating or moaning, interesting or dull. I expect you're quite often disappointed anyway, especially about the interesting.

The one constant thing I will try to do is let you know which blogs I'm really enjoying. There are some truly fantastic ones out there and none of us have a hope of keeping track of all of them and I'd like to think we can share the love a bit, like in the old days. Do you hear that my lovely Lola? Just like the old days.

I do have one serious thing to say though. I'm so touched by all your lovely message of support and kindness on my post about my multiple sclerosis. It makes me incredibly proud that people have stopped to leave a comment who have never been here before, and overwhelmed too that my new "blogfriends" have taken time out to stop by. I hope you'll continue to read, and to laugh and cry along with me.

For now though, I'm off to be a French Audrey Hepburn and go and get some writing done in my lighthouse.

Speaking from the heart

Once in a while, I’ll indulge myself. I’m not a great one for wallowing, and I only occasionally feel sorry for myself. However I do think it’s important to be allowed the odd piece of self indulgence so here goes.

For those of you who don’t know already and didn’t read my previous blog, I suffer from multiple sclerosis. I don’t say “suffer from” lightly even though I have few, if any, outward symptoms. My particular flavour of MS is what’s described as “benign” which means I’ll rarely suffer any issues directly relating to MS. It is however, the most bizarre of illnesses. It’s dangerous to try and shoehorn any mundane little aches and pains into “Oh well, it’s because I’ve got MS” – that way lies madness. I can’t begin to tell you how many times since my diagnosis almost 12 months ago I’ve been tempted to do that.

I can only tell you about the things I know, the things I’ve experienced and the things I experience now. I'll do it to ease my mind and maybe yours too. I'll do it for a reader I might never know. In posts to come, I'll talk to you about treatment I may never need and symptoms I may never have. But do you know the biggest symptom I suffer from now?

Fear.

We're all fearful at times, we feel afraid for our children, our partners, ourselves. I know I'm not the only one who's scared. But I can tell you I'm petrified of the time. I worry I won't have chance to fit everything in, to do all the things I want to do, see all the places I want to see. I'm afraid there isn't enough time left for me to love my child and my partner, there aren't enough days to show them how much I care.

I can feel the tick tock of an unremitting clock, and the relentless patter of grain upon grain of sand in an hourglass.

I won't die from MS, I'll die with it, but I don't know how many good years I'll have. There's no reason why I won't have as many as you, but MS has whispered gently in my ear, asking me how I feel today. Is it different to yesterday? Is that little niggle simply that?

Last week the tick tock was just a little bit louder, a little less easy to ignore. Now though it's quiet again, peaceful.

Until next time.