I’m trying not to go dark, that is, to stop communicating. Most people I know understand (I think) that if I’ve gone dark, something is up. It’s too hard to talk about. So I’ll talk around it.

In this moment, I feel foolish. I believed. And I worked so hard.

The thing is, every new problem, every new cut takes something from me. I recover, sort of, but never to where I was.

I feel foolish because I thought I had learned to accept non-recovery a long time ago. After the first cancer. After the brain injury. I knew I would never be the same, but I forged ahead anyway.

And now, again, just when I start to let go of the worry, the next problem arises. It’s just like last August.

Little did I know last August, riding my bike in a state of total happiness, that I would never feel that good again. There were more cuts coming.

Fool me once, fool me twice, fool me three times, four times, five times…surely I am the fool now.

And now I wonder: is this, today, the crest of another wave? Is this as good as it’s going to get this time? This wave is much lower than the last one. Sometime, much sooner than I had hoped, the waves will barely be ripples.

Do me a favour—don’t ask me about it. Just know it’s happening, and I will know that you know, and that will be fine.

PS. A couple of hours post posting and I want to add that if this is as good as it’s going to get, I’m going to squeeze everything I can out of this day.