You know the old saying. Well, for the past little while I took the advice of my mother and just did not
say write anything. I had to do so because I had absolutely nothing nice to say.
It’s very rare that I get to a place that is ugly and vile. By nature I am a genuinely nice person and treat others with great love and respect. Even the nicest of people – the strongest of people – reach a point where nothing constructive comes from their attitude or mouths. I was there. I simply reached my limit and I had enough. I had enough of being sick. I had enough of being held prisoner to my body. I had enough of people not understanding.
I caved into it and allowed myself to feel all the nasty things I was feeling. Many times I did not hide my disgust from those I love, and I let it go…freely. Many years ago I made a promise to myself that I would never wrap things up in a nice, neat little package for appearance sake. In hiding things, I believe, it only postpones the inevitable. So I did not hide from this ugly place where I found myself dwelling. I did, however, make a decision not to scream it out to the world and offend anyone in my path. I couldn’t say something nice, so I didn’t say anything at all.
I feel refreshed now. I feel a bit more hopeful. Though I am playing a nerve-racking waiting game with my doctors, I am not a time bomb any longer. I’ve taken myself out of time out and I can now play nice again.