Day 20 – Am I coping?

Tomorrow marks the 3 week point of Mama being hospitalized. And close to the 3 week mark of her being in ICU. I have lost track of when she went on the ventilator. The days have blurred into one blob of time. They are moving too quickly but also too slowly. It doesn’t feel like 3 weeks, at all. But while I’m at work it moves at a snails pace. I stare at the clock and it takes hours to move a minute. And yet, each break goes by far too fast. I can sit for over an hour with Mama only to feel as if it has been merely 10 minutes.

The tug of war over the time and movement of time in my mind is throwing me off kilter. I’m constantly exhausted. This is probably a result of poor sleep, sporadic sleep, and being uncontrollably stressed out. It’s not just Mama I worry about right now either. I have the whole family on my mind. I keep going over how I can try to carry as much weight as possible. I’m working on various personal projects to keep my mind from spiralling downward. Unfortunately doing that also makes me tired since it reduces the amount of adrenaline I’m using to function. Calming down and unwinding lead me to crashing. So it’s a challenge to find a balance between heart racing while gasping for air and completely knocked out.

I really did think I could handle everything. I thought that because Mama has always said I would be the one to handle the tougher decisions and look after everyone I would be able to without any struggle. Turns out I’m not made of titanium. My spirit, if left aside, rusts and begins to crumble like iron left to the mercy of the elements. I thought I could get through without lashing out at people. I thought I would be able to push my own struggles out of the way while I took on every task I could come up with to manage things. I thought I wouldn’t have to ask for help. I didn’t want to burden anyone with my own struggles and insecurities. I admit these thoughts and approaches to the situation have been a really bad idea.

On a positive note I have discovered I have a deep love of writing correspondences. It’s not unknown that I am closed off talking to some people. I have found that by writing and being able to carefully and thoughtfully choose which words I use, I am able to communicate my thoughts and intentions more accurately. This is especially true when I am broaching highly emotional topics, be it for myself or another person. It’s a little bit of control I can exert in my life right now. It’s something I do have power over to make a difference.

I anxiously wait for each update, as I am sure many of you do too. It is my duty, that I have taken upon myself, to make sure the information I get is translated clearly for everyone to understand what is happening with Mama, and the rest of us as well. I find comfort in the act of course. It allows me to process what I am being told separately from my own initial reaction to the information. Still, I panic when I get questions to which I don’t have the answers. I feel guilty when people ask what I need, because I don’t know what I need. I feel like that frustrates them because they want to help me but I don’t know how to accept help easily. I feel frustrated because I want to talk to people and pour out my heart but something keeps holding me back from letting my walls down completely. This is true even with people I love and trust whole heartidly. I don’t want to be a burden on them. They’re probably overwhelmed as well, so I don’t want to pile more on to their hearts.

I know I can lean on people, in my head. The knowledge that it is okay is there like a neon sign. But my heart treats it like a motel off the highway. It doesn’t want to go there because of the unknown conditions and possible consequences. So it keeps tearing down the road. Not rest stops, barely stopping to refuel. Even the fuel for my heart and body seems to be expensive these days. I know I can cling to my religion, the knowledge is there right in front of me. But my heart is wary of trusting too much so it doubts. I cry out begging for anything to happen but I feel like there is only silence.

I guess I’m just overwhelmed and afraid of overwhelming other people. I have to work today which in theory should keep my mind busy but so far it only makes me more antsy. Still nothing stops the bills from coming so off to work it is, all weekend.

I really am grateful for the people looking after me. It helps to have help when I am working on things to help care for the family and pets. So please don’t give up on me. Don’t leave me alone even if I seem skiddish. I can only do so much on my own.

I’m also insanely grateful for everyone looking after Mama, Daddy, and Trevor. Mama’s care team is wonderful. Daddy keeps standing on like a sentinel. Trevor looks after what I cannot. Where the 3 of us are focused primarily on Mama and ensuring things are at least functioning, you all, who have supported us, have helped to make up for what we have forgotten to take care of in regards to ourselves . Thank you.