Choosing to Walk Under a Grey Sky

Well, my daily treatments of rTMS are almost done, and I've got a lot of competing emotions about that. This is good, because it means that I have more emotions than just crushing despair. Yay!

A few days a week, I walk from the metro station to the Douglas (or the reverse), both to avoid taking the bus and to try and get in some extra sunshine and exercise. Today, the sky was grey and it looked like it might rain. It's a pretty long walk to get from one place to the other, so I debated waiting for the next bus. In the end, I chose to walk and enjoy the refreshing breeze.

As I walked, I felt just right: it wasn't too hot, and the sun wasn't shining blindingly into my face. I came upon a grove of blooming crab apple trees, and stopped to smell the flowers. It was wonderful! I realized that I haven't smelled flowers in a long time, not even on my own pink tree. I began to notice the smell of fresh-mown grass, the sound of bees, the warm, dusty smell of the road. I felt like the world was opened up around me, as if I was suddenly seeing it for the first time, even though it's always been here.

I ate lunch outside on the Douglas grounds, and then wandered around smelling all their trees. I felt this lightness, this buoyancy within me, like air filling my upper chest and lingering there.

I realized that I was feeling...a lightness. A sense of calm. And something I think was happiness. I felt...happy. I haven't felt happy in so many years, this quiet almost-joy, unlayered with anything else.

When people ask me how my treatment is going, I point to the obvious cognitive and behavioral changes. I can concentrate and understand things better. My memory is improving. I am talking and moving at a normal speed. I am smiling more, laughing more easily. I am having an easier time following my meal plan. Colours appear brighter, my sense of taste has improved, my thought patterns have shifted. I even have less headaches!

It isn't perfect. I'm still tired a lot of time time, and I have less energy than optimal. I find being around people for long periods of time to be draining. I have trouble motivating myself to do things I know I have to do. And, of course, I have had to give up a significant portion of my time in order to pursue treatment and manage my illness. I still feel overcome by inexplicable waves of sadness and tears. But I don't expect to be happy all the time, or for everything to always go smoothly. That is unrealistic.

But all the weeks in hospital, and then in treatment, all the medication changes, all the anxiety over trying to change doctors and treatment strategies, all the time off work, and all the things I haven't been able to do...it was worth it, all of it, for this one walk on this one day, and the way it made me feel.

I will keep choosing to walk even when the skies threaten to open, because I'm starting to feel that the world is worth being in, and that life might be worth living.