I am a Rock.

I have a very vivid memory of an experience I had as an older child while riding in our van with my family.  I can only assume now that we were driving to Utah or to a softball tournament, the specifics of which I don't remember.  My parents were playing their Simon and Garfunkel cassette tape and the song I am a Rock started playing.  This song resonated somewhere within me.  Pieces of it were so identifiable as being a place I knew I could get to if I let myself get the best of me.

My dad then asked from the drivers seat what I thought the songs meaning was; he must have sensed that I was drawn to the lyrics.

I remember answering and then my parents looking at one another in a way I can only understand now that I am a parent.

"I've built walls

A fortress deep and mighty...

I am shielded in my armor...

I am a rock.

I am an island."

I stick by that.

The armor and walls I've built have gotten me through some pretty tough things.

As humans, we need them.

Defense Mechanisms can be really awesome sometimes; they just take over and help us survive stuff we weren't sure we could.

Defense Mechanisms can also suck us in.

If I were my own client right now, there are a few things I may want to gently guide myself into doing.  The first being, honesty.  If one is not honest with others who love them, how can they be honest with themselves? It isn't possible.

If one is not honest with himself, is it possible to heal?

Never.

Therein lies my dilemma.

Is this how I share something like this? Is it attention seeking? I don't know. I hope not. 

I just know that the disguises I've held for the past few months in the name of privacy aren't helping as much as they are hurting.  Yesterday, I was having a dark day...and found myself attempting to find solace through a lame ass Internet message board, rather than with the people who I can actually see.  It was kind-of a rock bottom, in a strange Internet chat room kind of way.

Although I understand rationally that hopefully there are family and friends who want to offer support, I have chosen to let irrationality win, and isolate myself and my feelings.

So dumb.

Isolation is rather lonely. 

It doesn't really suit me, or anything I believed in when starting this journey.  

So...here goes nothing.

I've been having some health issues.

I like to pretend they are nothing...and actually most of the time they are nothing.  But, sometimes they are something. 

I am not naive enough or insensitive enough to think for one minute that there aren't many of you feeling terribly worse than I, and because of that, I will be brief.

I may have Multiple Sclerosis.

Feels a bit too real to actually type that.

I am hoping I don't have it...although at this point, the cards aren't stacked in my favor.

I've had a couple of years of some weird things happening that I would see a random doctor for, and then feel better. No big deal.  In fact, this MS diagnosis first was mentioned by a doctor a couple of years ago, but I really thought nothing of it until recently.

This past February, one Thursday morning, Blair was running late to work...probably the only time he has been that late in years.  That same morning, right before he left, I had, what appears to have been, a seizure-like episode. 

Blair was home and able to help me, and it was not by chance. 

After that... tests, tests and more tests were run, and a few nasty diagnosis were tossed around and eventually thrown out (thank goodness).  Most of these tests have been negative, which has been a good thing.  The brain MRI, unfortunately, was not.  I have a few "lesions." One good-sized and just a couple real tiny ones. My neurologist assumes that is what is causing a few of my symptoms (which aren't terrible...just weird).

As of this point, I am scheduled for another test in July, and then a follow up MRI in a year if I do not have any new "episodes."  My doctor is appearing very certain about what he sees, but is also being cautious because a diagnosis like MS requires a life long dose of meds (between Deak and I we may just actually have to licence our home as a pharmacy).  Whatever I am dealing with also appears to also be in the beginning stages, which is good, and where it will hopefully stay for a long, long time.

Phew.

I don't know if this makes me feel any better.

But...at least it's real.

And also really, really, really...I am fine.

Totally fine.

I will get through this again...and I am hopeful that if I am due to deal with this disease...I will be fine, and healthy, and happy.

I get to be.

I also don't have to search for random hypochondriacs on Internet sites anymore.