What I Can and What I Can't

Lately I've had several instances in which I've noticed things I've been able to do, things that in the past I couldn't do or would have had a really hard time doing, and I've really tried to recognize and celebrate these things.  It's important, I think, to celebrate accomplishments.

It's also important for me to try to keep things in perspective, to keep a balanced view of things, and it's often much easier for me to see the glass as half empty than half full.  Actually, the glass often looks less than half empty to me even if, in reality, it there is half a glass of water there.

So.  What I can:

• Isaac and I recently did a four-mile hike, then longest I've done in I-don't-know-how-long.  Since before developing fibromyalgia, for sure.
• Recently when hiking with a friend when there was a foot or so of snow on the ground, I noticed my friend was having a harder time getting up hills than I was.  I had to slow down and wait for him a couple of times.  This was a new experience because usually I am the one having trouble, the one asking other people to please slow down and wait for me because I just can't go as fast as everyone else seems to be able to do.
• The last time I went hiking in the woods with a friend, I noticed that I was having no trouble keeping up, even on muddy, slippery, uneven ground.
• A couple weeks ago, I went to the dentist to get my teeth cleaned.  Normally dental stuff makes me super anxious.  I took one of my anxiety pills before getting to the office, as I usually do.  But I realized after the appointment was over, that I wasn't anxious.  I wasn't particularly anxious before the appointment and I wasn't anxious during the appointment.  It was just... normal.  Kind of boring, mundane.  This is huge.  Really huge.
• I am looking forward to things.  That might seem small to most people but with my depression, there often is not much I look forward to.  But I find myself looking forward to things lately.

But.  Then there are reminders that I am disabled, that there are things I cannot do, at least not now.  And they hurt.  I am sad for what I cannot do.  That sadness doesn't have to take away from what I can do or from the celebration of my accomplishments, but ignoring it doesn't help, either.  At least it doesn't help me.  Recognizing it helps.  Grieving and then letting it pass.

What I Can't:

• Work.  At least not as much as I'd like, at the sort of jobs I'd like.  Today I considered applying for a part-time job working with an autistic preschooler.  I'd enjoy it.  But I had to reconsider because right now, it would be too stressful.  But I am sad about that.
• Maintain relationships very well.  Which is why I am single.  And sometimes I am OK with that, sometimes I actually prefer being single.  But sometimes I am lonely.  And I am sad that I feel like it's not so much a choice I get to make but the way it has to be.