Milestone birthdays feel like such a big deal. All of those big birthdays come with so much baggage. Turning 40, turning 30…both happened at rather monumental times in my life. Turning 50 last year was a lot for me because that particular year the typical milestone birthday celebrations of years past didn’t feel very practical taking place in my “new” life. It felt nearly impossible, actually. So we had a pajama party and it was perfect.

Tomorrow I turn 51.

Birthdays on the ones, as I like to call them, are never very lit like the kids like to say. They are mostly pretty much non-events. To me, though, the ones are sometimes the years where I have done the most growing. At 31, I was learning how to live again as a single person. At 41, I was recovering from heart break by living my best (and sluttiest) life. That’s a book I should write someday! But out of respect for my family, I’m gonna hold off a while longer.

Fifty-one feels a bit similar. Two years into my diagnosis, I’ve learned some things, then I learn them again, and again – ad nauseum because the thing I’ve learned most is that there are some lessons you can’t just learn once and be done.

Mourning is one of those lessons. You do it. You get through it. But when it happens again, it’s no less hideously difficult the next time and you have to learn it all over again. The last two years have been about mourning myself, in a way, mourning that old me that I had grown to like so well.

This year, though, I feel hopeful.

There is really not a big reason why. Yeh, I’ve had a couple of good days this past week. In case you missed it, I went to work four days in a row last week. I know! Crazy. But beyond that, I think another thing that hit me last week is that I have a personal misery limit. I hit a point, however long it takes me to get there, where my psyche cannot live down there where it goes when things get bad. My soul feels too battered to go on in those dark spaces, and out of nowhere and for no reason at all, some light starts to creep in.

I’m going to reflect today, on my last day at 50 years old, on some of the rays of light that have crept their way inside down in the darker places where I’ve been living lately, and share those with you (and with me, because I forget them too often and I need to remember them when it starts to get really dark again):

Deep thoughts by almost-51-year-old-Beth:

1.  Life will never be what you thought it would be no matter how hard you try. Something is gonna happen. Maybe a lot of things. Somehow you have to find the energy and passion to keep on going when it does. When you’re in those times, you fail to believe you can do it again.You can.
2. Youth is so…young! I have said this over and over, much to my sister’s chagrin, that I like every decade a little more than the last one and that’s because of what’s happened inside of me. I know myself better. I feel more comfortable in my skin (even when I don’t love the skin so much at times, like now for example) I still feel more at home inside of it.I have no idea how this happens but I think ample solitude has something to do with it. I have to noodle that notion a bit more but I definitely think there’s something to it.
3. Judging yourself harshly is the worst thing you can do to yourself. It’s worse than any other kind of judgement because it’s inside of you and impossible to escape. I’ve tried really hard, and failed, to learn how not to judge myself this past year. I have failed, but I’m gonna keep trying. I keep having this conversation with my almost 21-year-old nephew, nearly weekly. We always think we’re supposed to be something else, something better or something more.What if we’re just supposed to be what we ARE? Imagine how the world instantly changes if you see it that way! I haven’t achieved this super power yet, at almost 51, but I’m recommitting to continuing to try. It’s important.
4. Comparing yourself to last year, or last month or last week or even yesterday, is futile.Every day, every minute, every second you start over.That fact can be terribly unsettling for folks who like to live according to a plan. I used to be one of those people. I had a plan for my sunny, happy mostly healthy mid-life. It didn’t look like this. But here we are.I was walking up the steps this morning while clinging to the railing with my right hand and the wall with my left and thinking to myself, “Dammit. I did four steps yesterday without holding on and without feeling like I was going to tumble backwards down the steps to my death even once!” That was yesterday. Later this very same morning, I had my coffee, hit some CBD and lo! I could do the steps a bit better. Later today may be different again.Life = constant flux. If you can somehow learn that and not lose your mind, I reckon you might have a real chance to be happy.
5. All any of us can do is our best. If we do our best, no matter what that is, we are not failing. Yeah, I’m annoyed that I haven’t conquered the hurdle of air travel quite yet. I still beat myself up daily on my limitations around the work thing. I really wanted that to be behind me by now, but it’s not.So doing my best means making damn sure that my inability to travel and demonstrate the stamina of a normal person doesn’t define my ability to succeed. This new year has started out pretty damn amazing without me having to go anywhere.The hustle is different but it’s still hustling. Even when it doesn’t feel that way to me.
6. Kindness is the basis of happiness. If you can be kind even when you feel like utter shit, you’re already winning. When people are kind to you, don’t feel guilty about not being more able to reciprocate in exactly the same way. Look for little ways you can be kind, too, when they come up. Make someone else’s journey not quite so shitty. In whatever tiny way you can – even if it’s from your living room sitting behind a computer.

I can’t guarantee that this year I will conquer my dogged resistance to accepting the realities of my so-called-MS-life. I still seem to be trying really hard to resist it, not so much on the outside, but on the inside. I can guarantee that I won’t stop trying.

One of the most important lessons I learned this year (again) is this: Not trying is never an option. Trying doesn’t have to mean getting on an airplane and doing something big. It can mean taking the tiniest of steps. It can mean not battering yourself for giving yourself a break. It can mean just sleeping when you need to sleep. Or it can mean running in the woods or playing tennis like in all of those incredibly annoying MS drug commercials! Whatever it means to you, trying is important.

Just try. That’s what I’m going to do

P.S. Bitmoji me is celebrating my impending birthday swimming in my formerly favorite beverage, chardonnay. On special occasions, it might even be something special like my very favorite Cakebread Charddonay. But with all of the meds I take, I learned this year that drinking and me are not on good terms. One drink makes me feel…bad. My MS symptoms on steroids (and not the good kind), after one drink. I might have one glass later tonight in the comfort of my favorite chair and in the safety of my living room. Or maybe not? Who am I to judge?