My struggle with "Introducing Selma Blair."

As an MS patient, I’ve been on the fence to see this documentary. Don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate what she’s doing with the documentary, she sheds light about the struggles and challenges of this vicious disease that walks right beside me.

I want to hear her story, I want to know about her stem cell treatment, I would love to hear a story with a happy ending for a change. While looking at the information available of this documentary, this pervasive feeling of anguish takes over. Why anguish you might ask, well, I suffer from MS, this disease changed my life in so many ways, I do my best not to think about “her” all the time, (I address Multiple Sclerosis as a spoiled brat, as an ungrateful life companion). We live under certain set of rules, I don’t mess with her, she does not mess with me.

Many years ago, Spanish director Marcel Barrena shocked the MS community with the heartbreaking story of a man in Spain that tried to finish an Ironman Triathlon. 3.8km of swimming, 180km cycling and 42km running. Imagine that with Multiple Sclerosis on your shoulders whispering to quit and forget any sport endeavor and aspiration of yours. The catch lies in the fact that after his diagnosis, he was told that he would not be able to walk 100 meters unassisted within a year.

100 meters is simply fantastic, a real tour de force with all the ups and downs of living with a chronic disease. I took me a while to have the courage to watch it. We all have our issues, we all carry our scars, scars still sensitive to the touch. When I decided to watch it, I was all alone, I knew it was going to be a hard pill to swallow, many emotions hidden behind my bravest face can come out and show my true colors at any giving time.

During the film, I saw myself depicted there several times. No matter the background, we share the same fears, we asked the same questions. What changes is the way we deal with the situation. For years, dismay walked by my side. I could not focus, I could not perform at my best, I began to ask the wrong questions only to get less answers and feel some sort of relieve in blaming myself.

Sure, the movie portrayed a story of overcoming what comes your way, there’s no time to ask for questions. My uncle, a war veteran from WW2 once told me:

"You need to take war as a natural disaster. When it happens, you don't waste any time asking questions, all you need to do is to take action, either in war or in an earthquake, action is what keeps you alive."

I must use his advise, this is not a natural disaster or a battle, but it has the ability to equally change the course of my life.

If you look online for Salma Blair's red carpet footage, you would find a radiant woman whose style, beauty and essential self has not been diminished by the dreadful diagnosis. But on this documentary you'll be able to see the reality of that moment. Her mind was not cooperating, her limbs betrayed her. This woman almost collapsed in total despair in front of everybody. Instead of closing their eyes of look elsewhere, the photographers lowered their lenses, applauded her as soon as she gained her composure and watched her take center stage again to walk away with charm and panache.

My issue with “Introducing, Selma Blair” lies in the fact that right now, I’m again in a very dark place, everything around me is spinning out of control and I don’t have anything to cling on to . Interpersonal issues, health wise issues, work and family drawbacks are closing its grip with all their strength as I write. I don’t have the mental clarity to deal with all this right now.

The pool used to be my go-to place to get away from it all. Now, my issues are there when I swim, can’t stop thinking about what’s happening to me and the ones I love. To sit at my digital piano was another of those activities that used to have the ability to put my mind in a safe place, a place where I could be all alone and get lost in my music. Not anymore, this pervasive feeling of anguish takes control and sucks the joy of everything I put my mind into.

I do my best to keep this vicious lifelong companion at bay. I do my work not to think of her, to tell you the truth, I don’t have the time to do so. My problems are taking a good chunk of my productive hours. There’s no time to think on something that I cannot change, sounds logical right?

I feel temped to jump right in and watch the documentary to see if I can repeat what happened to me with 1100meters. The course of my MS could be different from hers but we share the same dreadful frustration as a common side effect.

Maybe what I think would add more wood to the fire, will make me see things from another perspective and push myself out of this dark place I pushed myself into.