OK, here it is that post I wrote and deleted, wrote and deleted. I actually got this version out of the trash and am just going to go with it.
This is not to whine, more to inform. “This is what I’ve been up to.” More to let you know if you are a highly sensitive mom who is barely holding on many days, even when it seems that nothing that horrible is going on, I am right there with you.
I am so desperate for a break that I can’t even seem to stand people talking to me for more than a minute. I stick my loving face on but inside my ears literally hurt and I’m cracking in half. Do you know how some people ignore symptoms for years and then when they go to the doctor they need a triple bypass or to have a large tumor removed? That if they had taken steps four years ago they wouldn’t been needing major surgery right now? I feel like my spirit needs a triple bypass. Make that quadruple. I have not had regular breaks or ways to de-stress, or even really any privacy at all for years, and I just know that what could have been an easier fix three years ago will now need major surgery. A bath or a walk or an evening at the bookstore won’t help, especially when I come home and my family expects me to A) be thankful I got that break, B) do the things that got left undone because I wasn’t there, and C) *be all better now.*
Ha. Ha ha. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
So to catch you up to speed since my last post:
(note: I know none of this is earth shattering…but it is the accumulation of straws on the camel’s back that eventually brings him down)
August brought many 70+ hour work weeks for my dh, including one weekend with no sleep, trying to get a project completed. It’s the kind of project where you can work for months and months, only to have to back out at the very last minute when you are alllllmost done, because “something” went wrong. Well, “something” went wrong the last time (“something” being people lying and saying they did something they didn’t, grrrrrrr) and so this was the next attempt. He did NOT want to go through that again. This one went better, phew…. because he was also dealing with trying to get his mother’s house sold and estate distributed with his family, as best he could without really being able to leave often or drive much or lift anything. And let’s just leave it at “distributing an estate can be very stressful.” Maybe I’m just too easily heartbroken…and I didn’t even WANT ANYTHING. It’s not the stuff. Anyway, moving on…
Eight weeks ago, I said goodbye to part of my heart as I dropped of my oldest daughter at college for the first time, and the weeks prior were spent getting ready. The weeks after were spent looking for the part of my soul I lost.
A week later we spent a scary night in the ER with my dh in agony. Turns out it was the first (and hopefully last) gallbladder attack for him. It was a bad one. Not knowing what it was, not being seen for hours, was traumatic for both of us. Our new normal is a new diet, which I am woefully unable to manage, on top of our already unusual diet (and broken oven).
Another two days later, my dad calls me and tells me to meet him in the ER to help him admit my mother. I do.
In the middle of the night a few days later, he calls and says she’s in the ICU on life support. We came and said our goodbyes, BUT, she rallied. She has spent weeks in the ICU, weeks in a long term acute care hospital, and now is at a more “normal” rehab. She has complications but is making strides. In my spare (ha) time I help my dad adjust and do his laundry. This is 1000x harder than it seems on a surface read. We have a very complicated relationship, the issue being only I think it’s complicated because I’m such a
spineless chameleon good daughter. Everyone is happy and I’m dying inside.
I tried therapy online and there were continual problems, the last being the therapist I was finally matched with just stopped writing to me. Right after I had bared my soul about abandonment issues. I would laugh if it didn’t hurt so dang much.
We’ve also started school like so many of you. Emma had her first day of Junior year at her school and I started homeschooling the others as planned. Because we took the summer off, not as planned.
James T. started cub scouts, the bottom three started an (awesome) art class at a friends house, Emma’s in a play, the middle three in choir at church. Roller skating has started back up.
But yeah, that is all going about as well as I expected. (*eye roll*)
Facebook, my main social outlet, has gone insane. I couldn’t take it anymore and changed my name and unfriended at least 100 people. If you were one of them, it was nothing personal. Really. I kept on people necessary to play a game my family plays, and people in two particular groups. Almost everyone else got booted. I truly needed to do it for my sanity. I don’t even think it was enough. I’d turn the whole thing off if it weren’t for my blog page and a particular group that helps keep me sort of sane. Yeah, I may be “taking control of what I allow in my brain” but man, it sucks and it’s lonely.
The other night, when I started losing it, The Captain told me a story about two kinds of people. He said that when a crisis happens, there are usually two ways to deal with it. Some people stay in a box of unfeeling denial, so that they can function. Other people let it all hang out and cry and grieve and feel bad.
Seeing as how I’ve been crying every day (for the last 18 years), and feel things so strongly, I said I thought I was the second kind. I handle seeing my mom dying on a ventilator, and lose it when the Dunkin’ Donuts doesn’t have frozen hot chocolate anymore. (True story.)
“Amy,” my long-suffering husband said, “you not only are IN the box, you ARE the box. You are all box.”
I guess he’s right.
The refrain of my month
year decade has been “just keep swimming, just keep swimming”, as I tuck my head down and plow emotionally through my days, building higher and higher walls just to keep going. There was really no support (outside my busy husband). Somebody has to be there doing the things I’m doing, and if no one else steps up, I’m it. I can’t stop, I can’t breakdown, because my kids need to eat, be clothed, be taught, and get their medicine on time. We actually thought of a way I could maybe get away for a few weeks at a time (with some of the kids, but hey, it’s better than nothing)…but it all came to a crashing halt when I realized that the people at home still had to eat home cooked food, and there’s just no way in God’s green earth I could manage shopping for and feeding people in two households. I can’t even manage one.
Everybody needs me, but nobody feeds me.
I may be the box, but it’s a weak box and full of holes.
Anybody got some duct tape?