You know that glimmer of an old piece of your life that pops up in your mind like a projector showing a film, when you hear an old song. My whole morning has been full of clips popping up, and often forcing me to the ground, having to sit and breathe to remind myself that I'm here and not in that clip.
Deja Vu often reaches me in the mornings, and then I find myself spending an hour chasing the old feeling or memory around. Half the time my intentions are to find a thread to pull on for writing, and the other half is just trying to find meaning in why that memory came up in this moment.
Today I just sat with it, and decided to use music. So here I sit listening to some Incubus from late 90s early 2000s. Brandon Boyd's voice bringing out my inner screaming fan girl, and then I heard it. My favorite lyric of all time, and it made this blog happen.
"And I can't help but ask myself how much I let the fear take the wheel and steer..."
The other day I had a conversation with myself about this. I was having a little mean girl moment, with pretty much everyone around me, and I started feeling like I was officially becoming a bad person. As I sat reflecting on my actions, a thought came to me that I will probably write an entire chapter on (hopefully soon).
I'm not a bad person, I'm a scared person.
After this last hospital visit, I was allowing fear take the wheel and steer. I didn't even fight it, I just handed the wheel over, and willingly sat myself in the backseat just reacting to where all the car was driving me.
So following up with yesterday's blog on regaining my power, and how I did it; I had to admit I was afraid.
Afraid of what, Hope?
If you're asking that you must not be following us that closely, but I'll answer. The longer you live with an illness like ALS, the more it will dig into Steve's body and cause destruction. So yes, naturally the fear of what's next.
Acknowledging the fear, helped me gain power back over it, and then deciding I didn't want to live in this space, gave me even more; until I was finally strong enough to put my hands firmly back on the wheel to drive.
So thanks Brandon Boyd. :) For bringing me a little nostalgia in my morning lessons, and reminding me to keep my hands firmly on the wheel. Because I am in charge here.