Terrified

I have a brain MRI tomorrow and I am terrified.

I don't want to get it done but we need the information since it will tell us why my sight has gotten very bad in my right eye. Which, in and of itself, is terrifying.

So much about Lyme disease is beyond words to describe. Having odd symptoms pop up unannounced and randomly affect different parts of your body without any notice is one of the worst things you can do to a person. It keeps you constantly off-balance, almost waiting for the next nasty thing to occur.

So one of the things I am working on is learning how to let go. Someone gave me this analogy: let's say you have a chicken in your front yard, running around. You HATE that chicken being there -- really HATE it. It makes you mad and you yell at it to GET OUT but it just keeps running around. It makes you so mad one day that you go out there and grab it around the neck and shake it saying "GET OUT! GET OUT!"... but now? It can't get out.

You have it by the neck.
And until you open your fingers and let it go, it can't leave.

Which means not holding on to your anger or frustration and trusting. It means surrender.

To me, the word surrender always meant "to give up because you lost." But that isn't really what it means at all... it isn't about losing. It's actually about strength -- the strength of allowing yourself to trust that it will be okay. That things will be okay.

So tomorrow's MRI is about surrender.