1st Post


“Hope” is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all …
-Emily Dickinson

Hope.  A short four letter word filled with potential and promise.  Yet I struggle every day to feel and possess that optimistic emotion so elusive to me…

I fight the demons that so many of us fight:  The moment-to-moment battle that occurs in your mind against depression, despair, and loneliness. Our desire to belong, to be accepted, and most of all, loved.

I educate myself on the illness and I take the medication that’s prescribed. I try to practice mindfulness and meditate to reach that inner peace. I read about the horrors others have suffered in an attempt to sympathize or rationalize…

But it’s all relative. Perspective is out of reach…

What I find most confounding is the ease of living with my physical ailment.

The disease: Multiple Sclerosis, debilitating to so many. Last week I received notice:

Congratulations, you’ve just reached secondary progressive stage! Bonus prize is PML! A brain infection caused by the years of immune suppressant drugs! I can deal with all of this, with a smile and a laugh even. A cane, a walker, or wheelchair…no problem. To this point I have continued to work full time and be as active as my physical disability will let me be.

But this mental illness, this deep dark pit of emptiness in my soul…

I cannot fight my emotions so easily.  And I cannot fight these demons Alone.  But I am:


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