Today, I contemplate many things (as is often the case when I make these blog posts).
I feel as if I am too inward-thinking. Yes, I do think much about the outside world, but recently I've been wondering about my insides ... more like worrying. My senses feel off. I cannot separate the psychosomatic symptoms from the real ones (if any). Tomorrow I go in for an MRI. Wednesday I will sit with a neurologist and talk about the results.
I want to be brave, but how can one be brave when he knows absolutely nothing about what is in front of him. In my lifetime, I have lost such special people; I have confronted poverty; I have faced down bullies; I have run until my legs feel like jelly; I have cried, face down in the grass on a hot summer day with no regard to how perfect the day was; and I have risen to such great heights of happiness even on a cold rainy day. I have overcome many fears and stepped great distances from my comfort zone. Yet, this feels like nothing else. At 31, my body and mind might be betraying me. My body's abilities may fall off steeply, and I may be destined to ride out my days in a wheelchair; I may lose my ability to speak, to act, or to think.
I am scared, and I want to be brave.
How will I do what I want to do? How will I reach my goals like this? I am praying that these results come back negative.