Thursday, January 14, 2010 at 3:47am
Today was filled with an assortment of moments. Everything from suprise to melancholy. I've been away from work so long that I feel out of my groove and honestly anxious about money. Not working and lots of medical bills are the least of my worries, but they're still there. Mainly though, I am struggling with myself. I feel on the brink of a deep sadness, like a rising swell in the ocean that threatens to swallow me up. And I keep pushing up. I keep telling myself the same crap that I make my mom repeat. "Inch by inch, life's a cinch. Yard by yard, life is hard. So we are going to take this inch by inch. I can do this. I believe in myself. And I will rise." But sometimes I have a hard time feeling it in my bones. Really tapping into that confidence and feeling of safety is a challenge when the most important things in your life are filled with daily struggle. I had thought that her stay in the hospital meant that for now things were ok. And that her current exacerbation was over. I was wrong. Wow. Who knew? -My mom knew. She keeps saying "I'm sick. I'm not well. Please help me." Over and over. And I just pushed it off. Like she was perseverating. But when we saw the neurologist he disagreed. He said that she keeps saying that probably because she's right. Fuck. That's not the right answer! Don't you know that's not the right answer? You're supposed to say "She's going to be fine." Fuck. We are moving forward though with the only treatment that has ever helped her. And I just hope that it does again. And I really hope that I am not hurting her with it. The doctor wanted me to be aware of how risky it was because she's already had her limit. I know he has to make that clear because of the litigious culture that we live in. And that even though the risk is real, the other reality is that she has been rapidly declining since her last treatment. It worked. And when we stopped doing it, she got worse quickly. So I just hope that it is the right choice. Fuck. I hate being an adult sometimes. I hate making all of these fucked up choices that may or may not help or kill the person that I hold most dear in my life. For the record: This part of adulthood really sucks.
My mom is doing better at home. She's exhausted for the most part and just wants to rest. She's not back to being her usual self. She not happy yet. Just tired and sick. She's made a new request. She wants to be alone a lot now. In the hospital, she never wanted to be alone. She always wanted me with her. But now at home she just wants to rest and be alone. At first, I had to make her keep the dog with her. (When she said alone, she really meant it. Right down to the dog even.) But a few days of settling into things, and I no longer have to force the dog on her. I've even found that when I go to check on her, she is often times stroking the dog, or sleeping with one hand resting on her fur. I know that the dog gives her some sort of companionship and comfort. Some sort of peace in all of this confusion and sadness.
My job right now is to get it together. However that has to happen, it has to happen now. I need to cry, let off some steam, and feel all of my feelings -but not in front of my mom. For her, I need to be rock-solid. I need to be confident and focused. A beacon of light.
I found my childhood journal. I used to clip and paste pictures into it and scribble down anything that felt right to me. Things to give me hope and confidence. Sayings that just resonated with me on some level. This one seems particularly appropriate right now more than ever...
“To be a star, you must shine your own light, follow your own path, and don't worry about the darkness, for that is when the stars shine brightest”
Back then, the darkness was the unknown. And my greatest struggle was just being myself and letting people around me know that person with all of my feelings and opinions. The darkness to me was that moment after you say what's on your mind, and you don't know how it will be received...Will people laugh? Like it? Hate it? Who knew? And I was so afraid of that when I was younger. I'm over that now. I've found the joy of fully being myself and attracting or repelling those who like me for who I am (or not). But this saying is still true for me. There is still darkness. And a light to shine. A different type now. The darkness is still the unknown. But it's more like what will happen with my mom? And how do I keep going with poise, and confidence, and grace? How do I manage all of my feelings and still enjoy what is left and not poision it with grief? And how do I find the strength to believe in something that seems so impossible yet wonderful? I try to imagine a future with my mom. A happy future where we all get what we want. I try to imagine finishing my education. And a family. A baby that my mother will hold one day and love. That will grow and know her. That will love her in return. I try to find a way in my imagination for all of this to exist. And it is honestly a mental struggle. I push myself to do it (allowing for the part of me that does not believe in make-believe or fairy-tales) because on some level I know that thoughts precede action. And so I try to guide my life in the direction that I want by beginning with the end in mind. Even if it seems impossible.
calm