I had an interesting dream last night, I was a little older than I am now and able to walk a little further.
Apparently, I was able to walk enough to find myself with 3 other dogs, gifted by friends. I had a Black and Tan dachshund, an English pointer (seriously, Riley is enough, don’t anyone ever gift me a pointer), and a harlequin Great Dane (a dog I one day hope to get the chance to own).
They were all young, and I was in a small clearing in a woodland area working individually with them on their basic commands and loose lead walking. A little amusing really, as Riley still insists on very tight lead walking.
I’ve always dreamed of being around lots of dogs. About a year or two into getting sick I even researched the idea of becoming a dog trainer, with a hope to one day have my own property to run a doggy day care. But currently, I’m researching into becoming a therapist. With the only hurdle really being how to fund 3-5 years of part time education and how to achieve it when I couldn’t even manage weekly choir at the start of the year.
But it’s interesting to me that my dream was with me older, and being able to walk a bit further. Most interesting, is that today I received an email to say my “rehabilitation referral” has finally been sent. This feels quite monumental given the fighting I’ve had to do for over 5 years to finally get someone to recognise that I do in fact need help to rehabilitate or make my conditions more manageable.
I’m trying to not get hooked on the word rehabilitation, largely because it was made clear that recovery was unlikely. I’ve certainly had enough disappointments over this time to get caught up in my dreams of being healthy again.
I’ve also been thinking a lot about aging. I’ve developed skin care pigmentation changes around my eyes, the skin around them having less elasticity and forming soft wrinkles, and finding the occasional grey hair.
Frankly, I think it’s criminal that I’m aging at all. My life has been on hold since June 2021 and I don’t thinking I’m asking a lot for the aging process to also be put on hold when I don’t feel I’ve truly lived my life yet.
I always thought when signs of aging started, I’d embrace it with open arms, knowing it was a sign of how much life I’ve lived and how many experiences I’ve had. I’d have welcomed the wrinkles with open arms, knowing I’d worked hard to earn them. Thinking, somehow, that each grey hair held a story, an experience and a memory.
I’m embracing it, but begrudgingly. And with the hope that when the signs become more obvious, that I’ll have some big and wonderful experiences under my belt to help make me feel worthy of the wrinkles, greying hair and softer skin.