My Nervous System Has Trust Issues . And So Does My Spirit.

This post is messy. It’s scattered. I wrote most of it in the back of an Access-A-Ride van , and then sometimes late on a Friday night. These notes are just random thoughts I sit down with when I am alone. These are raw notes from my “F-U Personal Journal.” I cry when I write like this. Not once or twice. Every time. Because when I tell the truth to myself, it hits hard.

My body misfires.

Muscles feel weird, they tingle and twitch without warning.

Feet drag.

Hands get stiff and cramped. 

Sometimes I pee before I’m ready.

Sometimes I can’t pee at all.

Sometimes I pee on myself. 

This is MS.

It attacks the protective layer around your nerves.

Messages get scrambled.

The connection breaks down.

When your body starts lying to you, trust becomes a problem.

You second-guess the recliner.

You second-guess the walk to the bathroom.

You second-guess your own timing.

You second guess walking down the stairs.

The trust issues aren’t mental.

They’re neurological.

They show up in your gait, your joints, your breath.

They change how you move.

They change how you plan.

You stop trusting mornings.

You stop trusting heat.

You stop trusting your body to act right in public.

You start looking for patterns that don’t exist.

You overthink.

You brace for the next fall.

You assume collapse is close.

Then the spiritual trust starts to fade.

You question your path.

You question God.

You question purpose.

You stop praying.

You stop meditating. 

You stop expecting.

This happens fast.

One bad week.

One small fall.

One public accident.

Then your beliefs start slipping too.

I show up by writing.

I show up by resting.

I show up by talking to my wife without pretending.

I show up by asking for help when I need it.

None of this feels natural.

But it’s necessary.  My up bringing taught me to be self reliant. It is hard for me to ask for help. 

I don’t trust every step.

I don’t trust everyone.

I trust breath.

I trust timing.

I trust Spirit, quietly.

MS broke my nervous system.

But it didn’t break my will.

I’m still here.

Not searching for answers.

Learning to sit with questions.

One breath at a time.