the time is now

Lately, all I think about is how speechless I am all the time. I’m trying so hard to live. I’m trying so hard to move forward & yet, time stands still in so many ways. I feel like I’m held hostage by my diagnosis. I live in two month increments. But I’ve been doing things that scare me. Like saying how I feel in these blogs or out loud to the people who I need to hear me. I reported that doctor who made me feel like a statistic and got a new one. I’ve been taking chances with putting myself out there. I am on ~*the apps*~ as they say. I asked someone out today. I don’t know if it’s anything more, but it’s progress. I’m living more, but I still feel landlocked by this disease. And this is where I begin to feel speechless. The “what ifs” of this disease make me descend into a depression. A lonely world that I inhabit all the time. It’s a real shame to be so stuck in space while trying to move forward with your life.

I want so much to look to the horizon and see the possibilities that I saw for myself before. I want to know how to exist in that world again. Maybe it just takes more time. I don’t know, but then again how much time do I have? I can’t afford to waste a moment. I just can’t. It’s do or die almost all of the time for me.

I used to have this piece of wall art from this artist that said “everything will work out” with a hand that has its fingers crossed. I took it down and put it away. I replaced it with a print stating “one day at a time.” That’s really all I have. The horizon, the future…. Who knows? I certainly do not. This day, this hour, this minute. That’s what I have. I have now. It doesn’t feel like enough, but it will have to do.