Thursday, August 9, 2012

Hope Or Something Like It: Hope 2012: A Blog Relay

Write about hope, they said.  It’s for the Olympics, they said.  It’ll be irreverent, and full of swears, I said.  That is why we selected you, they said.  Hold up.  Selected, you say?  I’ve been selected?  Moi?  All of a sudden I am on board.  Who could resist? I can spell “narcissistic” really well for a reason.  

What can I write about hope?

I was writing in my head about something else when this “hope” thing came along.  Could I get that writing to be about hope somehow and get my lazy ass off the hook?  Kill two blogs with one piece?  Because quite frankly, I don’t have much to say about hope these days.  

Truth be told, I was writing about being stuck in a downturn.  You may not see it, because like the foam on my soothing sweet vanilla lattes, when I’m sad I churn up a froth of humor and creativity.  But to be honest, I store that mirth and energy during the good times and ration it very carefully.  It needs to last.  To get me through the down times, like now.  

Is that hope?  Some day I might feel better and you guys would still be around to laugh with?  Whoa.  Back that puppy up.  Some day I might feel better?  That sounds hopeful.  I bet I will. I always have before.  But it feels pretty goddamn hopeless at times.  Will I ever be all the way better?  There is little hope of that.  That’s not how this works.  With a chronic illness, there is no “all better.”  There’s okay.  And not okay.  And great.  And horrible.

Today I am all over the map.  There’s rapid-cycling and then there’s completely chaotic.  I’ve been so anxious all day and then suddenly I’m crying.  Blindsided once again.  What is it about?  What is it ever about?   So many regrets. So much wasted promise. I'm just a lump of weak, lazy sloth. Coulda, woulda, shoulda.   

I need new meds. 

Dealing with this illness all of my adult life, you would think I’d have a better grasp on it by now.  But I’m continually amazed by every aspect of it.   Even at my worst, I know that I’d rather feel all these feelings than be numb.  Some of the treatments and medications I’ve been on made me numb, and it sucked.  So maybe that’s how I can tie the hope theme into this rambling piece of drivel.  I’d rather feel than not feel, even when feeling is overwhelming.  I don’t have a hope of being cured, but every day that I get out of bed is a hopeful one.  There are open windows, but I keep passing them, and that is hope.  And sharing this madness with you is hope for us all.

Namaste, good people who read my blog.  I always get teary at this point.  I think about how difficult it all is, for all of us, even for “normal” people.  People with a diagnosis at least get to play the crazy card.  I don’t know what all you normal fuckers have to pin your madness on.  You should work on developing a mental illness.  It’s so freeing.  

So I guess, after all, fuck yeah, I’m full of hope.  Hand to God. True story.  



Now, according to the sweet lady at Abandoning Pretense, I'm supposed to tag other blogs to challenge them to write a blog post about hope and then tag other bloggers to do the same.  I'm reluctant to do this because most of the bloggers I know are already challenged enough.  Here are the instructions, which I hate, because I love instructions, but no one else ever follows them and it pisses me off.  

Step 1: Write a blog post about hope & publish it on your blog.
Step 2: Invite one (or more!) bloggers to do the same. 
Step 3: Link to the person who recruited you (me, in this case) at the top of the post, and the people you're recruiting at the bottom of the post. 

Melanie Crutchfield will be holding "Closing Ceremonies" around August 10 and will gather up little snippets from people that wrote about hope, so make sure you link back to her as the originator of the relay.

Having said that, I'd like to challenge:  

Slice of Humble
Unconventional Wisdom

to write about hope before the Olympics are over.  And time is running out.  I don't know when those fuckers are over, but now that beach volleyball is done, the TV coverage will dwindle fo sho.