There has been a lot to digest in that time. So much to intellectually understand, yet even more to emotionally understand. Yet the need to emotionally commit myself to this diagnosis. Fight the fear of knowing and dive head first into the unknowing.
I have come to the conclusion that if this diagnosis needs to serve a purpose in my life, that lesson is:
Learn how to lose control. And learn how to be okay with that.
This process takes vivid and deliberate reactions to life. Giving myself daily instructions, motivations, or guides. Moving slowly through life; allowing myself time to gauge my own reactions. How do I feel? What do I think? How can I turn this moment into something positive?
What can I do to allow my life to re-focus and return to normality?
How do I stop myself from getting depressed, sad, lonely?
Whether it be moments, days, or longer, it was (and still is) important for me to come to this stage. To resist the urge to wish for another body or ask “why me?” To come to the realization that this is it. And I am the person alive inside this body. This is my shot at life.
Losing control, in this sense, does not mean I plan to stop fighting against my disease. Simply, I think it becomes an acceptance of it. Yup, it’s there, it’s not leaving, and yes, I am still going to do everything I can to fight it.
But, like life itself, it's a process... and my new mantra of "letting go" continues...