Acceptance sounds pretty and shiny but its really just that part where you give up on the hope of your circumstance changing.
Giving up hope sounds sad and empty but its really just that part where you refuse to let circumstances beyond your control continue to break you.
Being Broken apart sounds final but its really just a new beginning.
New beginnings are full of hope.
That, above, is how it happened for me. I cried myself empty. My tears dried up and I finally had come through the shock of diagnosis, enough to accept that I would need to learn to walk beside this disease for the rest of my life.
I teetered, relentlessly, between empty and empowered from this point forth. Although that sounds sort-of unstable and sort-of exhausting, it was actually an important metaphor of this disease for me. Some days I am empty, in pain and exhausted and some days I am empowered and full of life and energy and in their own way those two sides of me, those two faces of R.A, are the closest thing I have to a dependable new sense of self. They may not be the dependably, comfortable grey of my old life but those moments of black and white count equal something.