Will not and cannot accept the fibro. This is -my- life; I will not have it controlled by a syndrome. I am stronger than that. I am -high octane-, I am a shark--gotta keep moving or die. And I don't want to die. I have been delivered from the demon of suicide too many times to want to fool with that feeling.
Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm taking a chance. But then I look at my mom and how she lives--full-throttle, open all the way, in spite of the damage done by chemo, and I think, I can do that. If she can, I can. I'm willing to deal with the consequences.
And the more I think and pray about my decision to -not- go to UNO and New Orleans, the better I feel. And strangely enough: I feel as though I have overcome my life-long fixation on NOLA. I still love it, no doubt, but it's no longer an overwhelming motivation.
And to think: just days ago, I thought I was going to lose my mind and pitch headlong into madness again. I was moments away from another breakdown. And now I feel truly that I am the master of my fate, commander of my will. Guided by God, beneath the stars, on the earth He created for his beloveds--there is much to live for, and time to live.
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