I was in grand central day and there was a homeless woman wearing full out geisha makeup and sitting at a cafe table surrounded by folks just going about their business, including eating at the table right beside her like they weren't sitting next to a crazy homeless woman dancing to the music in her head and muttering out loud. All I wanted was my camera.
So, I found a support group for the current diagnosis (which the husband tells me he is "not convinced" he has- this inability to accept the diagnosis is a hallmark of the disease!) and I went tonight for the second time. It's very interesting, by which I mean I am not entirely sure that a support group is good thing or a bad thing. While I do like some of the people I have met there (another artist in particular) it is somewhat upsetting to hear the stories of the people who are farther advanced in this disease than the husband. It is completely validating when other people say the exact same thing I have heard myself saying (tonight one woman said she told her therapist that the reason she was in therapy was because she was angry all of the time and did not see herself as an angry person and did not want to feel angry! Hello? I said the exact same words to the new town shrink so many years before I even knew what was going on!!) and as usual I find myself craving validation, so hearing other people feeling my feelings is a good thing. I'm really glad the subject of anger came up because now I feel less guilty about feeling angry and can get on with the process of letting go of the anger. Tonight I got the always special gift of someone asking me my age and then telling me that they would have guessed I was in my 30's. I eat that up people! This woman can be my new best friend!
I do find myself feeling anxious the days leading up to the support group and super sad the couple of days after, so today I made sure to combine the support group with some fun stuff, like gallery hopping all morning with a school friend and grabbing coffee with the artist before the support group, so like the kid who gets a lollipop after the doctor's visit for immunizations, I will associate hearing terrifying stories about other people's pain and suffering with something fun. Life should be so simple.
I started meditating again and I am hoping it will make me a better person. Tonight the husband was picking me up at the train station and he texted me to say he was sitting in his car right where he had dropped me off at 8 o'clock this morning. I thought about sending him a bitchy sarcastic text back, something like "It totally makes sense for the person in the car to wait on the wrong side of the tracks so I'll just run through that bridge under the tracks besides the traffic and be there a few minutes after the train pulls out. Hopefully I won't get hit by a car in the busy parking lot!" But instead I sent him a text which said "Go to the other side." and he did, and I did not have to risk my life hauling my tired ass through the tunnel next to the cars under the train tracks. In retrospect it seems so simple, but you know, I had to brush aside all of that anger to get there.