The New Year

Today I'm visiting NW again to have the VNS turned up. It seems to be working how it should. I've had two strong seizures since my last doctor visit but I was able to control them with the VNS and the magnate. I've been keeping track of the "when/where/intensity" with my phone; something I wasn't doing in the past but should have been.

My New Year's resolution is really so big and complicated that I wouldn't call it a resolution at all. My job is to pick away at the things that I do have control over.

Sara and I were watching a documentary about WWII; basically the reconstruction. Cities and homes were completely destroyed. Amongst all the rubble, people formed lines and started pulling out one brick at a time to set them in a nice, neat pile. They found chairs and furniture, turned them right-side up and found an area for them. The people looked miserable, and the narrator said that reconstruction didn't end until the 1980's.

I'd like to do the same thing. Start at a point and work with what I have to make things better; even if it takes longer than expected. Every other time I've tried this method I was met strongly by adversity. The thing that I have to understand is adversity is the definition of any disorder or disease.

When I got out of college I had an idea of where my life was headed and what I wanted to do. I was looking straight forward, but several months ran into years and the path began to curve and sway. I was distraught but willing to work through the doors that were open to me. Since being sick, that path has taken a complete right angle and I haven't yet come to terms that the path that I'm standing on isn't the path I dreamt about.

The one thing I could never expect is that someone else would be sharing my path's turns and dips. Sara is a person I need. She's the part of my brain that remembers and continually reminds me for what I should be grateful. Sara's the energy that keeps my going when mine seems to have run out. She has eyes that do not look away from my body's scars and discrepancies; a body for which I'm sorely self-conscious. Sara has hands that will grasp mine to walk me through difficult steps; literally, at times. She married this man, a man that hasn't held himself in high regard in a long time. Apparently, there's something she sees in me that I have yet to discover.