Was there ever a more futile instruction?
I understand the desperate need to keep control over possible disappointment, and when your mental health feels like it is teetering on the brink, there is a feeling that disappointment would tip you over the edge (crikey, shall we play cliche bingo?). The trouble (or good thing) is, that you can’t switch off hope on demand. Disappointment can break you regardless of whether you think you’ve kept your hopes low.
Now that I have booked in for surgery I find myself thinking about when I am better, when I have had the op and when I have done all my walking and got fit and can lift my children again. I am imagining Christmas without pain. I realised yesterday that this has rubbed off on my 4yo when she began a sentence with ‘mummy, when you’re better…’
This kind of hope feels a little dangerous. I know that I will still have back pain, because the surgery can only fix one problem and I will still need the pain clinic to help me manage the other. However, it should fix the main part of the pain. I should be able to hoola hoop, and lift my children into swings on the playground and sit on the floor cross-legged to play.
There is a niggle at the back of my mind that says ‘what if it doesn’t work? What if it goes wrong?’ that I can’t quite switch off.
Don’t get your hopes up? Presumably we wouldn’t ever take a risk if we didn’t also hope.