That said, I am mentally and physically wiped out. I had a chat w/ my sponsor this afternoon, during the break in our meeting, about life and emotions and the nature of things in general. Her observation was that she rarely felt one concrete way about things that happen to her: usually her responses to life's events are mixed. It's never a black-and-white emotion; her response is somewhere on the grey spectrum. In thinking about it, it occurred to me that my response to life's events is very much the same:

• When Gil and I broke up the second time I was simultaneously angry and sad and yet relieved. Angry because I felt like I'd been duped; still, I'd spent the two weeks we were back together waiting for him to freak out and once he did it was like, "OK! Done. Now I can move on!" Some may say I created a self-fulfilling prophecy and perhaps I did. I don't know. Bottom line, I only wanted us to be together if it was going to be right, and it clearly wasn't.
• Money stuff: this new adventure I've been on with money has had me on a bit of a roller coaster. Much like when I got sober, I'm finding myself changing in ways I never expected; looking at the world with a new understanding and appreciation. I'm also realizing how vital it is for me to stay on this path, regardless of how hard it might be. I'm excited to be trying new things and yet apprehensive about having to change habits and mindsets that are ingrained. I'm trying to remember that change takes time and that I'm not going to meet all my goals overnight, but I get frustrated, even while knowing that I'm doing the best that I can.
• My MS: when I was first diagnosed with MS, my family - and my mom especially - were quite upset. I'm sure they thought I was in some form of denial because I wasn't sobbing about it; on the surface I didn't even seem upset. The thing was, I was dealing with the immediate things that needed to be dealt with: I was at the hospital every day getting pumped full of Solu-medrol, seeing my neurologist, getting started on Avonex, talking with my employer about short-term disability leave, dealing with the insurance companies, etc etc etc. I didn't have the time - or energy - to think about the long-term repercussions of such a diagnosis.

  Once I did have time to stop, think, assess the situation and evaluate my feelings, they too were mixed. On the one hand, I was relieved to have had such clear-cut symptoms that my neurologist could diagnose me easily and I could get started on treatment rather than wait for something else to happen. With MS, getting a diagnosis is half the battle - many people suffer with symptoms for years before they're diagnosed.

  On the other hand I was sad, a bit scared and worried about the future. I feel grateful that I have such wise and wonderful friends and family in my life to help me sort through what everything meant. The bottom line for me was accepting that I had the disease and that - for better or worse - my life would be changing. Accepting it doesn't mean I'm happy about it, that I like having it or that I'm ready to give up. For me all it is, is saying to myself (or my higher power, or no one in particular), "OK, I get it. I'm not in control here," and leaving the rest up to the universe. Sitting around in denial or harboring resentment and anger wouldn't get me anywhere.

And the interesting thing is, all these parts of my life are so intertwined: one thing affects everything else in ways I never would have expected.