Wednesday, February 8, 2012

According to the Urban Dictionary, to "diss" is to disrespect, put down, reject, insult, mock.  It's f*cked up, to hate on, a loser.

I've been thinking alot about my ohsoclever tagline "Dissing the dis in disabled"

I hate hate hate having MS.  Often it has translated into hating myself.  Hating my body for it's betrayal of so many different functions.  Peeing, walking, eating, talking, thinking - the abilities come and go at IT'S  whim.  I have no say in it.  I can't plan, write, sleep, or DO what I want, because IT is in control.  For me, to diss the MS has meant "f*ck you, MS, I f*cking hate you, you're an idiot, a loser, I reject you, and you're ridiculous".

But like I said, that was translating into me telling myself those things - that I AM those things.  At the same time, I fine the ridiculousness a bit fascinating.  The inability to do things, despite my will, fascinates, as well as infuriates.  Fascinates is more becoming as a personality trait. 

It's a struggle to learn to accept that just wanting to do what you want to do doesn't mean you can do it.  Boy, is that an understatement.  I have always been the type to get what I want, by doing it myself, making it happen.  Somehow, someway.  Even love, if I want to be really honest.  You may not love me now, but if I make myself indispensable, sexier, dumber, prettier - you will love me.  I could convince you that you loved me.  It would work for awhile.  And then it would be time to move on, to learn some more.  But that's a whole nother post.  I'm talking about MS today, not love.  That would be too Valentiny, huh.

In just the past month or so, I have realized once again, that MS is going to kick my ass if I don't start taking care of it.  It will beat me, like it did in Idaho.

So perhaps, I need to start respecting MS, rather than "dissing".

Yea right.  Like that's going to happen.


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