pessimism & hope

I would love to begin a post one day by writing something like this:

Feeling well, and coping with life at the moment.

Apparently it is possible to feel that you are coping with life, I’ve heard of people who do, but I don’t think I’ve felt like that for a solid three years. And certainly not in the last few weeks, as life in our little flat has been the ‘almost-falling-over-the-edge’ kind. The ‘if-one-more-thing-happens, we-might-explode’ type. It’s uni work piled up to the ceiling for poor Ben, and uncertainty about where we will live next year, and our gorgeous puppy who has poodle anxiety and can’t be left home alone for howling (we live in an apartment), and me feeling disheartened about my stagnant health situation...and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few more things that my foggy brain has quite forgotten. I just think of myself as a Sally Pearson with a sprained ankle. I sort of launch up for the hurdle but come crashing down before I’ve cleared it, and then unlike an athlete, I sit there in a heap for a while before trying again.

As in most dim times, various things happen to encourage us. Providence.

One night last week, I was crying about something. Someone came to the door, a courier, and dropped off a package for us. It was a CD of beautiful music focussed on hope in the vale of tears, from someone who knows what it is to suffer. We were amazed, touched, spurred on. We haven't stopped listening to it.

Then a few days later I read that some old friends were expecting a baby. This news was so incredibly joyful for the fact that they had been unable to have a baby for 10 years – a decade of praying and being joyful in their current life situation, and now finally a baby for them. I felt like their life was a mirror of mine: the baby they so longed for is the health I long for. They had managed to find the balance between hoping and praying for a baby, but also living contentedly in their present situation. That inspired me. I feel that I am always hopping off one side: I’m hoping for an end to my pain, and miserable about my present life, or I’m happy with life, but not even thinking or believing that getting better is an option. 

It gave me so much hope! Firstly, it is possible to be peaceable towards my lot now, and at the same time hopeful for recovery. Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Mostly though, I thought: if after 10 years they were given a baby, then God hears us. There is hope for recovery – it’s not too much to ask for, too unlikely to believe as a possibility, too unrealistic to hope for.

That day I called up a Chinese Medicine doctor we had decided upon. Previously I’d felt no real joy about trying another new treatment option – I didn’t want to have my hopes disappointed again, and loose more money in another failed attempt. Now I’m glad that in less than 2 weeks I will begin my foray into the world of eastern medicine and put myself under the care of a man who has helped other CFS sufferers recover.

the next experiment

My pessimism has lifted. I know there is hope, this could help me recover. I also believe that if it doesn’t change anything, God has a very good reason for making me wait and I shall not give up or lose heart.