I have been holding my entries since the end of June, writing away...but censoring myself. After much introspection and several phone calls and emails from those of you who read here, I gathered my courage and posted them all.

I am not rising to the occasion in battling pain, weakness, and failing cognitive faculties. I am tired. I am exhausted. I am weary. And I am frightened.

Today, for nearly three hours at work, I could barely see. My vision was so very blurred that I could do little but type and hope enough of my thoughts would survive so that I could finish my work later.

I find no joy in this. I find no comfort in the fellowship of suffering.

I feel alone.
I feel scared.
I feel overwhelmed.

I cannot change this. I cannot escape this. In the words of Elisabeth Haydon's character Rhapsody, "Ryle hira. Life is what it is." Eli Stone would tell me, "Live Brave." David would remind me that the days of my life were written before one of them came to pass...and that each of those days are in the palm of my Creator's hand. Luke who add that "with Christ, nothing is impossible."

This I know. My soul doth know it very well.

Knowing...however...does not make it very much easier...just endurable.