Hope

[Me in front of the Great Pyramid, Cairo, in Egypt 2026. I am wearing a blue straw hat, a turquoise blue shirt and white trousers, accompanied by blue trainers. I have a green fabric crossbody bag across my chest. My trusty trekking pole keeps me steady as I stand for the photo.]

One of the things rarely spoken about that keeps us going in life is Hope.

If you have ever experienced a sense of ‘what’s the point? …’ or thought to yourself, ‘I don’t know why I am here …,’ or even got to the point of asking someone, ‘What is the point of living / carrying on?’, then these may be signs  that Hope has sidled out of the back door for you.

We can often experience this state if we live with long-term health conditions .

I’ve been there myself, so know firsthand that you are not alone in this experience if you have ever felt like this.  But I also know that when we are in this space, we struggle to even care that others may be experiencing or have experienced it too. When Hope is not a resident within us, we can feel very alone and isolated, as though we are the only person feeling this way; others can’t possibly understand what we are going through.

I get it. It’s a horrible place, and an excruciating feeling to hold within you.

I also know that this hopelessness is a stealthy creature which can rear its head and make its presence felt very unexpectedly, having crept up for weeks or months prior. Hope seeps away unnoticed until its place is taken by its nastier sibling HopeLESSness.

What you might notice on the outside may be excessive tearfulness, anxiety for no reason, low mood whilst rationally being able to see the bounty that exists in your world, a flatness about everything. You may feel isolated and disconnected from others or yourself, an overwhelming sense that nobody cares. You no longer gain enjoyment from anything – and certainly do not experience the euphoria that others label as joy.

As an aside, I think Joy is a bit over-rated and for some reason, many people think they should feel this emotion all the time. But I think this is a feeling that whooshes in now and again, and generally happiness or contentment are more stable residents. But when you derive no enjoyment from things that you previously did…. That may be a sign of Hope seeping away or even having already gone.

Whether it is Multiple Sclerosis or any other long-term condition, Hope can be stealthy in its draining away. The detachment and numbness, bring with them a sense of futility – a sense of ‘why should I even think about the future? What is the point of making plans?’.

I also know from research personally conducted into long-term health conditions over the last 25+ years, that Hope, or the loss of it, can affect us each in different ways. Therefore the solutions will be different for each of us too.

It’s not so long ago that I found myself in that place. I didn’t know I was in that space at the time of course. My thinking ability and self-compassion were nowhere in sight. The only reason I NOW know I was there is because when I did regain my Hope and zest for life, the difference became clear to all my  senses. I have now been able to engage in and create plans and set goals – not the goals of business where you must achieve something to gain a financial reward – but goals that speak of aspirations, that bring meaning on a personal level. Goals to experience things / to experience life and to engage once more: That basic quality that gives us a reason to get up each day and carry on.

Which is why I am now in a position to tell you about it: to tell you that you can get out of the hopeless state, that you don’t have to carry on feeling so badly anymore. I may even be able to help you to find your solution – if you want that help.

What was my catalyst?

I stumbled back on to my sense of Hope by not working for 3 months and therefore eliminating most stressors out of my life, by resting loads, by doing a lot of things I used to enjoy, like meeting friends, reading, watching films. All simple pleasures but they were things I had lost connection with and lost the ability to appreciate. Another key element to these 3 months was an opportunity to reflect, to join the dots and see the patterns and to start putting myself at the front of the queue. One of the most surprising outcomes from those months of resting was a desire to hold the MS at bay by returning to the gym. Another was a desire to achieve a long-held ambition – to achieve the childhood dream of seeing the great Pyramids in the ‘flesh’.

Both borne of the desire to experience some of the riches that life can offer. Both previously lost sight of.

This period of rest returned my Hope and thus gave me my life back.

With MS, and probably with many other long-term health conditions, the emphasis is usually on the physical or visible attributes of loss. Although my physical regains did happen, they were fairly small. However I did gain a lot mentally and emotionally. It is the mental and emotional forces that lie at the base of our physicality. If we don’t address the emotional and mental aspects, then the physical symptoms are unlikely to change.

Whilst I knew this already – that’s why I entered this profession 30 years ago – this period of rest has really highlighted to me what I was on the brink of losing and what I managed to recapture without knowing I was losing it.

So this journey of life and work continues, as inevitably I needed to return to work. I have now made it my mission to help others to connect with their sense of Hope.

My little formula for regaining Hope is now REST - Reflection, Emotion (connect with), Stress (reduce), Trust (me for help).

#Rest #Reflect #RestoreHope #ReLive