I crashed and burned about four hours after writing the last post. Unfortunately, the Phoenix is still only a small, guttering ember and a tiny wisp of smoke. The remnants of stamina and energy once too big to be contained. If I ever thought that I could will myself out of illness, yesterday and today were brutal reminders that it doesn’t matter how rigid my resolve, how deep my desire, how hardcore my hope…my body is in charge of my destiny. My mind is a hapless, helpless passenger. A gagged, straight-jacketed observer, along for the ride.
I am writing this carefully in bed while the dark room spins around me. Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.