You know how dreams can play with our fear of embarrassment and leave us in endless frustrating situations?
Well, I often dreamt of surprising myself by being able to walk or even run. Obviously, pointing a sharp needle into my feelings of inadequacy. Now it’s the opposite. I can’t move. My walking stick breaks or my wheelchair disappears.
This is my subconscious getting me back for being optimistic about my success with tackling fatigue.
But they are dreams.
I’m moving flat next Saturday and I’ve felt a little pressure by stealth. Just like the dreams, the MS is little more than a bully lurking somewhere further down the evolutionary scale.
It won’t stop me smiling.
We’ve just accepted an offer on my father’s house as well.
Let the dreams try.