If there's no cure, does it ever end?

A week ago today I attended my first Al-Anon meeting which turned into my second because I stayed for the meeting that followed the one I went to. A couple days later I attended my third. Then again today I attended the beginners meeting that I thought would be a good starting point for me. Again, I attended the meeting that followed. Even though I've only shared once in the five meetings that I've attended now, I'm learning a lot. It's somewhat comforting knowing that I'm not alone in this journey and that others have been there before me. Although I would never wish upon anyone what I've gone through. As I continue to listen, learn, and process what I'm hearing I know that eventually this will get easier and that this will help.

But there's one thing, I've heard and continue to hear, the explanation "It's the disease." I've thought about that.

It was the disease when I was 10 and my mom decided to load me and my friend in a car and drive to the liquor store. I didn't know until she came back to the car with the bottle wrapped in the brown paper and started tossing things into the backseat that she was drunk. This was the first time I remember her being drunk...consequently it was the day after I graduated from the DARE (Drug and Alcohol Resistance Education program) at my elementary school.

It's possible that she had been drinking long before that first time I noticed. I may not have noticed at this point in time at all, if it hadn't been for the DARE program I went through.

I don't remember much from that point on until I was 12, I don't know if the drinking stopped for a couple of years or if I just ignored it. Her drinking got worse and I soon came to realize that the bottle would always be more important than me. It was a year after that when everything seemed to go down hill. I think that year was the year she was constantly in and out of rehabs like they were carnival rides. I remember the summer before I started 8th grade, my brother and I were sent to Maine to live with my dad's sister and her family because my mom was going into yet another rehab. That year when we went back to school my mom was in rehab. She was fine for a bit after she came back that time but then she kept slipping. The slip that hurt the most was the time I came home from school that year on my birthday. My brother and I had been locked out of the house and she was passed out. When we finally got in the house I sent my brother to the basement with the family dog and his homework. I proceeded to try to straighten out the house and get in touch with my dad while my mother threw up all over the place. I tried to ignore that my birthday present was thrown on the floor like she hadn't even thought to wrap it. Happy Birthday to me! That was the disease.

She went into rehab a couple more times after that and finally got sober. She still wasn't a parent. Her actions are still the same as they were when she was drinking.

Was it the disease when she told me to grow up and deal with the MS on my own? A little over a year after my diagnosis, I decided to switch specialists because I wasn't functioning on the medication for the MS and my current doctor wouldn't take me off it. Was it the disease when she told me that there was nothing that the doctor would be able to do for me? There are so many more moments I can recall...were those all the disease?

I guess I'm wondering do her actions every stop coming from the disease? Does she ever start owning up to the actions she makes as her own and not those of the disease?

There is no guidebook to accepting the diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis or any other illness for that matter. There is no timeline to tell you do this now and accept it by this date. It's not a like a jug of milk that has an expiration date, there is no accept by date or else. But many say that you do go through the five stages of grief; denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Not necessarily in order and you don't have to go through them all, it's kind of like you go through the stage without really realizing that you are in it. (At least that's how I saw it because it wasn't until I was through stages that I knew I was even in them.)

I went through the denial and isolation first, I jumped into finding the other specialists I needed to see for testing and researching medications. I didn't think about the diagnosis for a while. I had a checklist of things that needed to be done, that was something I could handle at that moment in time. So I found a neuropsychologist and then I found another because the appointment with the first one didn't go so well. I researched the medications. I wasn't up for stabbing myself deep in the muscle so the once a week medication was quickly off the table. I wasn't ready to go straight for a pill and it wasn't really offered, so the question became did I want to inject myself 3 times a week or every day? Well that one was easy 3 times a week, I thought that was something I could handle. These were all things I could do without directly facing my diagnosis, without really dealing with it, thinking about what I was feeling, or even ultimately having to talk about it.

I'm not sure what happened to the anger, bargaining and depression. I mean I was sad at times and upset with how things were but I don't think any of those really fit into the formerly mentioned stages. I went some how from months of denial and isolation, to be sad and upset, to somehow being somewhat okay with things. I didn't fully accept the diagnosis, but I accepted part of it. I think a lot of that had to do with all the work I did in therapy. The final straw that seemed to help me get over the "hump" was the balloon release "ceremony" I had on the day of my one year "anniversary" of my diagnosis; it was really therapeutic for me.

I'm looking back at all I did to help myself get through that hard time but I find myself sitting here and wondering what do I do now? Because there is no guidebook for this, there is no guidebook for this situation I am currently in. Part of me wants to face this head on, part of me wants to hide under a rock and part of me just wants to cry. I think the stages of grief maybe back in play. Because besides I'm crying all the time, I'm so mad, frustrated and confused. Looking back at the past few months, I see myself making my way through the anger stage. I feel as though I'm heading for denial and isolation because I don't want to deal with this, I want to make it go away or pretend like it's just not happening. Maybe that's because I don't know how to deal with it or maybe I just want to pretend that it isn't happening. It's just all really confusing and something I never saw myself having to go through. But I mean really when you are faced with a doctor telling you that they aren't sure you have MS after you've been diagnosed, how would you deal with it?