Accepting - giving up/in

I kept saying, last summer, it’s never going to be better than this! I had more energy and will power than, as I remember it, ever in my life. I was more movable and stable than in a very long time and I could extend my walks longer than in five years. I had the ability to be totally present in every special moment. My senses were aware in an unprecedented way. Colors were brighter, like my eves were awakened from Fisherman’s Friend. No, it’s never going to be better than this.

Yet, my body had been given new memories. During the struggles of the long, dark and extremely slippery winter my scared and pain struck body was looking forward to the summer in a new way. Confident that it would again bring stability, mobility, strength, happiness and will power. 

It was wrong. I have no idea why, but my body acts like it’s still -Celsius and the ground covered with ice.

Of all the things I have to give up during my worse periods (which can last for months and years) is not to be able to get myself out of bed the most defeating. It’s literary bringing me down on my back. To wake up in the morning and lie there waiting for the sound of the car. The nock on my door. The key in my lock. The steps up the stairs. The good morning from the one having my morning shift. The hand reaching out to help me up on my feet.

In May I was doing a little bit better and I felt like the good summer was in coming. Here comes the sun! Then June 9 I turned acute in a bad way. I hoped it was temporary, but it wasn’t. The transition into accepting was really tough. It’s hard enough in autumn and winter. But summer is my chance to feel better for a while. And to have a tiny bit of fun in my life. A chance to live a little.

Acceptance in this sense is an incredibly conflicted condition for me to be in. I know it’s the only thing I can do. And the right thing to do. Accept what you can’t change, right? But to accept I have to give up. I have to give up the power of getting myself out of bed in the morning. And in giving up, I am loosing my will power. I am giving up my will power. I am giving in to being powerless. I am putting my will power in a drawer, locking ut. Hiding the key in a special box where I can’t see it. 

This impotence puts me in a state where I wake up with a sigh, get through the day in a sigh and fall a sleep with a sigh. I become a person who is only a few percent of my full capacity. I exist only at a minimum. I find this very sad. Cruel even. And I feel it’s such a waste of my life. When there is so much I want to do, all those ideas to realize, loads of life to live at it’s fullest, for my part and for everyone around me.