If I had a dollar for every time I felt guilt...

Was almost asleep.  Then I had a thought.  And that thought lead to another thought, and the snowball gained speed.  Fast.  It would take too long to explain, but I thought back on a time when something big happened.  To me, to my daughter.  It should have been exciting and fun.  Instead, it turned out to be awful.  I was unable to attend the event.  This was shortly after I developed M.S., although unknown to me at the time.  I knew I would not be able to go before hand.  I was angry at myself.  I was so guilty, and it hurt me bad.  My husband took my daughter, and called me throughout the day telling me the opportunity I missed out on.  He didn't mean any harm by this, but like me, he was very disappointed I couldn't go due to my health.  It hurt.  Here it is a year later, now with the knowledge of M.S., and I still blame myself for not holding it together better.  It was only one day.  What, I can't hold it together for one day?  I know I couldn't have.  It still doesn't stop me from blaming myself.  For being angry about it.  For scolding myself about it.  Wondering what I could have done differently.  Nothing!  I couldn't have done anything differently!  I made my choice knowing I couldn't do anything physically different!  It still doesn't numb the pain, or make me forget, though.  Darn that.  I so wish it would.  It's beyond frustrating to think I have four kids with a lifetime of experiences ahead of them.  I'll get to sit and watch from the sidelines.  How many events will I miss due to my lack of health?  It has to be the most frustrating thing in the entire world.  I didn't become a parent to watch it.  I became a parent to do it.  I am tired of being the spectator.

I had an interesting/infuriating dream last night.  Freud would have a field day with it!  Dreams are so fuzzy, and rarely make a whole lot of sense, but last night was very clear.  I had a conversation with my sub-conscious.  It took on a voice as loud and as clear as mine.  It told me I willed myself into developing Fibromyalgia and Multiple Sclerosis.  I yelled at it.  I told it that was a lie.  It was so menacing, and so completely certain in the lies it feed me.  "You made yourself get sick because you hate being a mom.  Now you get to take on less responsibility."  It hurt in my dream, but I knew it was true.  I agreed with my sub-conscious.  Dreams, no matter what you feel in your reality, are so intense and real, it's hard to distinguish reality from the dream world.  I deeply reflected on that dream today.  Why would that voice, knowingly to me in my dreams, represent itself as my sub-conscious?  Why did it sound hateful, mean, evil?  Why on earth did I agree with it?  Do I agree with it?  Being completely honest with myself, I began to get irritated.  Will myself into getting auto-immune diseases?  Really?  For one, I don't even know if that could be done.  No, I don't think I willed this.  Do I feel relief being sick, knowing this means I won't be obligated to spend as much time with my kids?  Oh hell no.  I was a great mom before I got sick, and I loved every minute of it.  My almost seven year old reminisces about the "good ol' days" often.  She misses it as much as I do.  We all miss the old me.  Do I miss participating in everything?  Oh my goodness, mmm, let's think about this.  Two years of sarcasm later, the answer is yes.  I miss everything.  I miss doing everything.

I do know one thing's for sure.  That dream, although way off base, did ring more truth than I'd ever care to admit.  It was fatally laced with guilt.  I could feel it then, as I still do now.  Guilt for getting sick.  Like I allowed this to happen to my family.  I don't know if it's my personality, the reactions I get from family and friends, or just part of being disabled.  I think it's a combination of all three.  Whatever the reasons, it will take a lifetime to lean how to forget and move on.  When you have a terminal, unforgiving disease slapped into your face everyday, this is easier said that done.  I have a good feeling I will take guilt to the grave.  We're old friends, almost thirty years together.  That's quite the relationship.  One I would love to dismantle.  Until then, I lay in bed.  Hurting, crying, scared.  I am scared of guilt.  It hurts me.  It makes me angry.  It can be a very negative feeling.  I hate when guilt feels the need to come and show its ugly face.  I do try to ignore it.  Try to convince myself that guilt is nothing but a lie.  An evil tool for living in the past.  While my head knows this to be true, my heart can't help but bleed a little.

I know this, and still...