though it threatens to seize up
is my drug of choice.
So I go to school.
The discussion and laughter
make me come alive.
My brain loves to dance.
Who knows where it will take me?
At least we have fun.
Research shows that, “in all cultures, the conviction that one’s predicament is hopeless may cause or hasten disintegration and death.” [Jerome and Julia Frank, Persuasion and Healing] The tools available to me to fight this disease are limited. Could it be that keeping hope alive is the strongest weapon in my arsenal?