Tuesday, November 10, 2015
I Don’t Wish to Have My Old Life Back
As disheartening as it is to suffer with this disease, because of my struggles I’ve grown emotionally, and I’d rather not go back to the person I used to be. I’m better than that. I’m more empathetic and thoughtful. I’m tougher than I ever was. I like this version of me more than the old one. So, if I were to become nostalgic, it would be along the lines of, “I just want my old body back.”
But I don’t say either of those things, because I spend almost no time thinking about what used to be or what could have been. That type of sentimentality only undermines my happiness. I expect that most folks who find themselves longing for their healthy days understand that it’s not time well spent, but they can’t stop themselves. I’m lucky. Because of DNA or the example my mother set for me, or some of both, I’m disinclined to go to a place of regret or mourning.
I’m not without angst, though. When I imagine a better life, I think, “I just want my disease progression to stop.” I know I can handle this, but despite my best efforts to stay grounded, I sometimes agonize about what is yet to come.
Other than these occasional lapses, I spend most of my time in the moment, as the Buddhists like to say. Here, I am neither saddened by what could have been nor frightened by what might yet be. Give this a try, and you may find a measure of contentment. I have.