Been going down some major philosophical roads, recently...
And, of course, becoming intimate with more malfunctions. Hands don't work so good, right now, typing on this particular keyboard at this particular moment seems to be working better than other keyboards, at other moments... MD sometimes says it's just age, but this, he says is The Disease.
And as I was sitting outside groovin' on my "yummy" medicinal herbs, I suddenly realize that...
I've given up. I don't treat MS as a being, like "it" does something or "now 'it' wants" or "now 'it' insists," or personifications like that. But I realize that I don't plan anything, any more. Anything. Perhaps because...
I've given total control to It. The entity that doesn't exist, that we all call "this disease."
But I've given up. And given up to It. I've given control to It.
No wonder my "Planner" official is unhappy (see the five-element acupuncturists for more info on that particular official). My Planner official may be unhappy for entirely different reasons, but the Planner can't plan because ...
I'm afraid. I'm afraid of all sorts of stuf, but I'm specifically afraid to plan anything.
Yeah, I can spin reasons (let's be honest, justifications) enough to choke an ox, but basically... I'm afraid.
So, that's the Inner Jihad to fight right now. Fear. Something I have to fight even to admit, for far too many things.
But I'm afraid.
Perhaps, perhaps... but afraid?
That, I definitely am.