[NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR]


My writings are a sonnet of sorts. They come to me in pieces and collections, journaling of events, poems, and fragmented sentences of thoughts captured before permanently slipping away from my memory without a trace: a time capsule embarking over a decade’s worth of “putting myself out there” via my coping mechanism of paper and pen. (NOTE: Not all dates are exact or necessarily in sequential order, and some compilations are re-writes from lost works.)
 

Maybe you see yourself in some of them – ?

 Maybe there’s a sentence or key phrase that offers some solace, or at least a glimmer of hope provided in a very dark and desperate time of despair.

Or maybe even some much-needed comic relief from my self-deprecating anecdotes.

Whatever that looks like to you…I hope it does that for you…

Oh, and you best Buckle IN! You’re in for quite a ride

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Tear-filled eyes, mascara-stained cheeks, and hair that hasn’t seen a shower since Sunday, is loosely pulled back into a bun. I neurotically rub my forearms as I prepare to write. How do I properly share with the world the utter helplessness and despair I am currently feeling?



Yesterday I endeavored to overcome the negative with positive. Today, negativity and adversity has consumed me to my depths. I cannot seem to crawl out from underneath it no matter what I do.

How does one share their deepest pains in the midst of chaos and time limits?

(I rub my face with both hands and resume again.)

In my current capacity, I am not “allowed” to get sick or have a “day off” as there are too many things that depend on me. It is unfathomable that I would be in such a state of disrepair that I could not (or did not want to) get out of bed on a given day.

I should be grateful for what I DO have and for all of the people who think of and pray for me and my family daily. But the crux of the matter is that, when it really comes down to it, I am alone. I have no one to help out with the kids, pets, house, transportation, finances, or even just to take the wheel for a day or two so I can have a break. So yes, in this regard, I feel so alone.

I am sitting here behind my computer, listening to Em going at it again with her creative nonsense while she no-naps. She has had such a rough day of having to occupy herself for the most part because mom has been too busy dealing with other stressful situations that consumed most of her time.

Have you ever had an experience where your body is just coming out of anesthesia from a major surgical procedure? Everything is in a foggy haze as you try to recall events and your whereabouts. As your head is slumped down, your vision is blurred, and you can’t quite get your brain and limbs to play nice together. While in this half-conscious state of mind, people are trying to give you instructions as to how to slip your leg into this pant hole and raise your arms to put on your shirt. You really are in no position to protest so you have no choice but to go with the flow. You are at the world’s mercy until the anesthetic wears off and you are once again able to gain clarity and control over your own life.

I have several days like these (however, without the anesthesia). Today just happens to be one of them. I wanted to tackle the few “must do” items on my list so I could paint with Ember and have a quality day. Instead, I wrestled with the ice pick in my temple and the thin veil of fog covering my eyes. Even so, I still managed to drive Devon to school and Mat to work in a half-comatose state of mind. After that, I spent the next hour troubleshooting internet issues on my own and then being on hold for nearly three hours with a government agency, only to be told that I will have an uphill climb ahead of me (which, by the way needs to be completed by Sept. 10^th) if I want any hope of getting them to assist with my family’s medical or financial needs.

I can’t blame Em for acting out and spilling a nearly full glass of apple juice all over our hardwood floors. In my limited capacity, I tried my best to clean it up, but only made things worse by dripping the sticky substance all over the foyer and kitchen floors, further increasing the mess. With still being on hold, our JRT Chomps whining, Em now in her room cleaning yesterday’s mess, and me getting nowhere fast, it was all I could do to hold back the tears and keep from crying. I am now finding myself walking our dog around our neighborhood with my cell phone on speaker waiting for someone on the other end to pick up.

(I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS!!!)

So, here I am, on my hands and knees, mopping up the floor with wet rags, while taking my cell phone with me from room to room for fear of losing the call. At this point, I can’t discern between the cold liquid and my own tears. It’s pretty much a self-defeating endeavor. In saying this, I realize how profound this statement truly is. It seems the only battle I’m capable of winning is a losing one.

[OK, Nancy, so stop building walls by stating facts (which only serves to increase anxiety and distance yourself from your feelings) and start sharing how all of this has emotionally impacted you.]

Do you want me to talk about the utter feelings of helplessness? How that, when I’m on my hands and knees, cleaning up after a child who is obviously crying out for attention, that I just want to give up – on my marriage, all the time and energy I put into finding creative ways to support us, on my fight to stay healthy, and on my will to live? That some day someone will have to tell my kids that life just got too tough for me, and I chose giving up over them?

As I read what I have written so far, still not allowing myself to get too close to the edge, I am realizing that I now have 45 minutes before we have to leave to get Devon, then Mat will need picked up approximately 45 minutes after that. I’d like to get myself in the shower before then, but I am still damned and determined to make myself get all of the emotions that are bottled up inside out on paper before I do. I don’t know why this is so hard for me!!! The adjectives and adverbs attached to the way I feel are all up there inside my head, yet I can’t seem to coax them out. (Believe me, I want nothing more than, with wild abandon, to be able to translate my thoughts into this blog.)

I do know that I am tired of going this alone; of spending so many of my days fighting just to survive and so few days enjoying the quality of life that God has designed us for. I want to stop being scared; to be able to let my guard down and trust in the fact that someone else has got my back for a change. I want my kids to know what it means to have a mom that is emotionally available for them, and to be able to grow up knowing what a “healthy relationship” looks like. I want to again know what it’s like to not have to worry about how to put food on the table or the bills are going to get paid. It would be nice to be sitting down at my computer and, instead of staring at all of the “notice of cancellations” and “disconnect notices,” I could be looking at framed pictures of family vacations.

I realize that in writing all of this, to some, my issues may seem petty and, that I am exposing myself to a potential world of hurt in having this get into the wrong hands. I guess, at this point, I have to ask myself, what do I have to lose? If I truly want to get well and to live a life of prosperity, I have to continue pushing myself closer to that edge, until I am ready to truly convey things in a raw and transparent manner – no holds bar.

With 27 minutes left, a body that needs to be thrown into the shower, and a toddler that keeps interrupting, and asking if she can get up, I think we’ll call it a day here.

Thanks for taking the time to read through today’s fickle meanderings. I’m not sure if they made any sense, but for me, it was a way to help me cope with my day. And, for that, I am grateful.

-NH

(Sept 9, 2012)