DABDA

The stages of grief are upon me. DABDA: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.  I seem, currently, to be vacillating between Anger and Depression, with a bit of Acceptance peppering, however briefly, my otherwise negative state of mind.  I have dabbled in  Denial and Bargaining but found them to be entirely unnecessary at this point. Unnecessary because I have been sick for 11 years now, so it is kind of hard to be in Denial, and I see no point in Bargaining.

When I set about creating and implementing my fundraising endeavors, I had two goals. One being to save my own life and one being to help as many other people as possible. I also set two rules for going about meeting those goals. The first being the fundraising needed at least the option of an exchange of energy-donate five dollars to Lyme disease treatment, ask a Life Coaching question; buy a raffle ticket, have a chance to win our beautiful Harley. The second being all aspects of the raffle had to help not only myself, but others as well.

The energy exchange is important to me because I want to EARN the money I need for treatment, not just have people hand their hard earned money to me. I think this is so important to me because I am in such an odd situation. I am not living in poverty, my bills are paid, my husband has a good job and a decent income, our basic needs are met, and I have double health insurance. Ironically, all of the above means nothing when it comes to treating Late Stage Chronic Lyme disease. 

The task in front of me to earn significantly more money than I've seen in my lifetime seemed impossible, but that didn't stop me from trying. I spent weeks writing a detailed proposal, for raffling off our Harley, to present to a non-profit group. I researched Oregon law to determine what steps needed to be taken to legally hold a raffle. I researched how to hold a successful raffle. I recruited people in various cities who could help to sell tickets in places I would be too sick to travel.

I then moved on to my backup project -ASK ABBY. I chose this form of fundraising because my background, education, career, is/was in counseling. It is what I love, it is what I miss, and it is what I feel I can do well. I challenged 100,000 people to ask me a five dollar life coaching question over the next two years. It is something I can do from bed, no matter how sick, and still do well as helping others is my passion. The reward of my work would be getting consistent treatment, doing something that  brings me a tremendous amount of joy, and maybe earning enough to help other Lyme patients as well.

I am nothing if not persistent. However, despite the fact that I am a die hard idealist and will take a situation/idea, view it from every angle, shift and mold it, and work so very hard to keep it alive, I am also a person with a deep faith that everything happens for a reason. I truly believe that even when we can't see why, and even when what's happening is the worst possible scenario, there is a reason, a damn good reason.

So when the ASK ABBY site bombed and the non-profit backed out of the raffle, what did I do? I cried. I mourned the loss of the hope, I clung to so tightly those few months, that everything was going to be okay. I mourned the loss of my home, my car, my personal belongings which will all be sold off in the next 30 days so we can move into our RV and start saving money for treatment. I mourned all the time wasted over the past few months trying in literal desperation to save my own life, and I mourned that, through it all, I had forgotten how important it is now for me to be living my life-the best way I can given the circumstances, and, for the first time in 11 years of illness, I realized I had entered the five stages of grief, not in a subtle way, but more like a volcano erupting.

Enter Depression first, while pondering how in the world the worst possible outcome could be my fate. Anger next-not at the non-profit who backed out. They had to do what was best for their group, and what we asked them to do would have been nothing short of a miracle if successful. A daunting and overwhelming task for them in so many ways.

No, the anger consumed me when I thought of the reasons why I am in this situation in the first place. Ignorant doctors, outdated treatment guidelines, corporate greed, inadequate, even negligent, medical care, and the naive belief in living the "American Dream" which, it turns out,  is only an illusion. The reality that one can do most everything right-be responsible, get a good education, have a successful career with good benefits,  make good choices as often as possible, have faith, do good deeds every day, and still, in the blink of an eye, none of that matters and all that you believed was yours is not yours at all-your health, your life, your possessions, your accomplishments, all gone.

While rollercoastering from Depression to Anger this morning, I began to feel moments of Acceptance, remembering what I already know-everything happens for a reason-sometimes the most beautiful gifts come in the ugliest wrapping.  What could be the gift in not being able to get treatment? Surely it can't be the severe debilitation in my near future or possible death well before I've reached my golden years? Or could it be? My fear wanted me to believe that at this juncture, this was the only possible outcome, but my spirit overrode this morbid thinking.

I spent the remainder of the morning contemplating the five stages of grief. They were originally developed, by Elizabeth Kubler Ross, in the context of what one goes through when they are aware death is imminent, but there are a lot of situations where the stages apply-any situation in which we as humans need to grieve a loss.  So I grieved-I let the emotions flood through me, and I cried until there were no more tears to shed. I honored the need to go through this process, these stages, and ultimately I wound up exactly where my Psychology textbook said I would-Acceptance. Only my Acceptance was not of the perceived outcome I feared, but rather of the fact that the raffle, my miracle, was not meant to be. Acceptance that even though I am unable to see why, right now, the raffle was not in my best interest. Acceptance that ASK ABBY will blossom in the Universe's idea of the right time. Acceptance that my miracle just took a detour but it will eventually arrive.

I would be lying if I said I am no longer vacillating between Depression and Anger, but the difference now is that it fuels me in a healthy way instead of paralyzing me as it did last night and early this morning. Those stages no longer dominate my thinking. I am back to centered and grounded for now, with the understanding that Acceptance does not mean denying myself  future moments of those other stages of grief.

Some might think the very act of continuing to believe in miracles, and my belief that what appears to be an  insurmountable hurdle can be overcome, is me lounging around in the stage of Denial. Maybe it is, maybe it's not-only time will tell.  For now, I will live the best way I know how, with the hand I've been dealt, with gratitude, not fear, in my heart.............