Life has slowed down for me in a major way. It has given me the time to rethink my life, my choices, my relationships, my purpose, and my mistakes. I’ve come to the realization that I am not a good person.

I want to apologize to all for being a burden, an anchor, a dark cloud, the black sheep, for being selfish, and for overstaying my welcome. 
The last few years I have been learning to let go. To let go of control, aspirations, dreams, expectations, fears, health, and hope. 

Now, it is time I let go of relationships, to set people free. To cut the anchor.

I’m so sorry for everything, for wasting everyone’s time. It’s time for me to disappear, and be forgotten.

Caroline 

I’m never quite sure when to use this word.
But a couple weeks ago, as I was chocking on some food,
I read the temporary tattoo on my arm and thought …
“Is this irony?”

I’ve since decided to not get this tattooed for real.

I have felt myself change over the last few years. Even my dreams have changed.
I dont feel like myself anymore. And it is more apparent when surrounded by others.
What ever person you see in the wheelchair, it is not Caroline.
It is a body and mind overtaken by disease.
I mourn this loss everyday. The grief and pain progressing, building rather then diminishing.
Unable to separate myself from the loss with time.
… Or can I?
I want my story to end on a positive note. I want people to say:

“Caroline? I heard she headed north to the mountains with a camera around her neck and a backpack filled with crayons and books (some empty, some not).
She’s smelling the roses.
She’s watching day turning to night turning to day.
She’s listening to the birds and the wind. And she’s playing with colors.”

And the person you see before you now, the girl in the wheelchair, well … I am Anne.
I’m new here. 
Hi 👋!

2023 was a very difficult year.  
After visiting with my new neurologist, who informed me my diagnosis was actually PPMS, 
I contracted (long) Covid. Then she moved away.
Upon having medical test done, I contracted an infection.
I broke down physically and mentally, and was hospitalized for both.

I have refused tests, appointments, with any hospital/dr. since.
And instead decided to Schrödinger cat it.
As long as I don’t look inside, I could be healing.

The weakness in my arms worsened. Making simple every day tasks much harder.
I stoped painting, I stoped writing, and I put my camera away.
I got a new, more permanent, wheelchair.

Then, for my peace of mind, I went to stay at our cabin in the mountains.
Where I could mourn the way I grew up doing it, alone.
I spend my days resting, coloring, and losing myself in the view.
And as I watched the trees stand still and strong , I would think “maybe being rooted isn’t so bad.”

I’ve decided to keep the box closed. I’m not sure exactly what that means but right now I don’t want to know or talk about the future. I don’t want to hear the news, I don’t want to know the forecast, I don’t want any more MRI’s or ultrasounds or blood test. I don’t want to know nothing. I just want to see what happens. Live in the moment. 

I haven’t written in a while, my thoughts are often gone by the time I reach my keyboard. But once in a while I manage to capture a thought. Like today …. https://youtu.be/5OOdThyD7u0

Here I am, a little lost and a little found, in my studio painting Bleu et Jaune-Orange

I don't want to talk, but I don't want to be alone. 
I feel a need for nourishment, a growl in the pit of my stomach. 
But lack the desire to eat, for I dread the nausea to follow. 
I want to live, but not like this. 
I want to scream and inhale deeply. 
I want to float away, but I also want to hold my family tightly.
I am torn, I am afraid, I am lost

To look at a blank canvas, for fear I will see nothing