Staying Positive

People ask me all the time how I can stay so positive in this situation. First of all, I am not all that positive. Those of you who are close to me know I am basically a "glass half empty" kind of a guy. It's just in my nature to see the downside of things, the negative outcomes. That's probably why I am such a good Project Manager; I see risks everywhere. Then I manage them, really well.

Secondly, what most of you see is not so much the positive, but the acceptance. Mix that with my natural humour and my general approach to life, and it is easy to confuse it with being positive. And finally, who wants to hear a sad story all the time? I like to be the story teller and telling a sad story really diminishes your audience.

Try this. Here are a couple of paragraphs. Both are true. Both reflect my reality. Which speaks to you more? Which is more positive? I don't really know. First, this one...

This morning I got out of bed early; I woke up early and couldn't sleep. I arose in the dark of night and lay there for a minute thinking about my day, then headed for the shower. It was easier this time as I have figured out how to work out the mechanics of getting clean while sitting on my new shower stool. I headed into the kitchen and used my new Keurig, a Christmas gift from my Mom and Ray, to make myself a coffee. I had a bowl of completely unhealthy breakfast cereal. Using my walker as a stand, I brought both to my comfy chair in the living room, and here I sit, awaiting the sunrise and typing my blog. It's calm as the orange of the sun sneaks into the grey, snowy clouds that settled here yesterday.

Now this...

This morning was tough. I awoke early. My knee was hurting and couldn't get back to sleep. Plus I had to pee. I struggled into the bathroom and shower. After my usual events I slid sideways onto the tub and into the shower seat. Once I managed to get decently clean I went through the ordeal of getting dressed, never easy when you can't use your legs. Using my cane and walker, I made my way into the kitchen and managed to get a coffee and got some cereal. Now I am sitting here in the dark, writing this blog. Oh woe is me. (Hmmm, maybe I don't need that last bit.)

Both are true. Both reflect my reality. Both are visceral and visual. One speaks with my voice, the other with my sadness. One seeks to share, the other seeks pity. Pity sucks. I refuse to behave in a way that generates pity. What people see as positive I see as the only way I have to maintain my dignity and self-esteem.

I have a disease; an awful, nasty, terrible disease. I have to give into it eventually, but I never have to give up to it.