Today the Save the Date notice for Adam's wedding arrived in the mail. I am relieved to see that they are getting married on March 6th, which is the date of the conference in Sacramento. Hence, I will not be able to attend.

The wedding, that is. I will not attend the wedding.

Of course, they're having it on a Sunday in Mexico at a resort outside Mexico City. So, it's not as though I'd have been able to afford the trip anyway.

But hallelujah that I have a good excuse, because that would have been a little too Rachel-goes-to-England-to-watch-Ross-get-married for my taste. He will be disappointed and relieved, I'm sure. Just as I am.

It is strange to recieve such a thing in the mail, really. A printed announcement that the man you used to sleep with would like you to know when and where exactly he's getting married to someone else. It's eerie. And sort of nauseating.

I wish I didn't like them. That he had done something really evil to make me hate him. Fleah.

Been trying to figure out this whole Living With MS thing, meanwhile. Before, I just pushed and pushed and pushed until I collapsed, quite literally, and that was just, well, the way I did things. Now that I know there's actually a reason for my collapsing so often, is it better for me to maintain my course? Or for me to pay attention when I get tired and just go to bed?

The latter feels lazy and wimpy, as though I was fine with it before, and now I'm just a big wimpola because the fatigue actually has a name. I'm not sure that's it, though. And, I'm sure it's been getting worse, as well. Aside from the getting worse, though, I wrestle almost constantly with wanting to push things and just work like I used to, and then realizing that I have no life because all the energy I have is going towards work and finding ways to beg out of social engagements in order to go home and sleep. How is that living?

It's exactly what I used to do, most often, and I'd always thought it was depression. Perhaps I was wrong, and I've had this thing for longer than I'd thought? Perhaps a midday nap isn't all that bad? Perhaps a midday nap every day isn't that bad?

Then why oh why does it feel so bad? It's strange, really. I don't want to sound like a whiner. But I don't want to be in denial.

Sometimes, knowing a lot about defense mechanisms and coping and the stages of grief and stress and disease management can sort of work against a girl, you know?

Posted by twids at 11:08 pm