MS is painful. Period.

In case you haven't noticed, MS is very painful. And if you haven't noticed, either don't have MS or don't spend enough time with me. It's hard to believe that up until the 1980's, it was considered a painless condition. I have been struggling to figure how or why anyone could make that claim, as pain - in many MANY different forms - has been one of the worst symptoms of my MS.
We all have our good days and our bad days. For me, good days are the ones where I don't have a symptom that was bad enough to be memorable a week later, as opposed to those yucky ones that I have just learned to live with. All I can say is that some of my pain symptoms have seared themselves into my memory so well that I can remember them months, even years later, including specific circumstances of what I was doing and where I was when I felt that degree of pain.
It's that "hard-to-catch-my-breath" pain - deep, dull aches in my legs and back where my clothes touching me feel like stinging insects; and "screaming-out-loud" (literally) pain from the nerve damage in my face from the Trigeminal Neuralgia.
Because of MS, I have fallen, run into doors, bumped into tables, cut myself badly, spilled hot drinks on me, slipped in the shower... However most people say it's because I'm klutzy. I guess it would be a stretch to include the pain from the confinement in MRI tubes or side-effects from my medications, but all those things hurt, too.

MS is painful.

I'm Just Not Ready

I wish I had some meaningful story to write here that would make it obvious to everyone that I have beat any negative emotions about having MS. I would love to be so zen-like about the whole thing that you would feel my words glowing and radiating love and acceptance, showing that I have reached true happiness and that I am at peace with my MS and see the destruction that is being unleashed in my body as part of a bigger, universal plan.
Well, the words aren't glowing, because that isn't the case. I am far from serene about this whole friggin' mess. I'm angry and hateful at times. I lash out at the ones I love most in the world at the very times that am feeling lonely and scared and in need of love. I withdraw, I cry and I feel sorry for myself. I lie to myself about all the fabulous physical feats that I could have performed and career paths that could have lead me to greatness, if only it wasn't for MS messing it all up. Then, much like I feel after watching the news or certain reality shows, I get tired of myself and that whole storyline. I need some relief from the anger that I can't seem to get away from. I need to find something about myself to be proud of, before my hatred of this disease becomes difficult to separate from everything good in my life. I've found few ways to look outside myself- I pray, I bake, I read, I play Barbies with my 3 year old niece.
I am not ready to wholeheartedly embrace the idea that MS is a blessing in my life. And I don't know when or if that time will come but I'm trying to take it one step at a time.