Thursday, November 6, 2008


Slipping. I feel it happening. The mornings are getting harder to get out of bed, the afternoons with the kids are getting much harder for me in terms of noise & not wanting to talk anymore. Nights, nights are quiet, and a relief, but there is pain, and a sleeping pill.

I feel myself pulling in my arms & legs again and going into my shell. I don't want to talk to anyone these days except for Robert. He can't talk with me so much because of his work & the kids.

A few times I've wanted to go back to the hospital, but that's not the answer. I need a therapist, and I want to start the treatment plan for the TMS. I feel kind of out on a limb here. I'm supposed to be patient to get the help I need. I'm trying.


  1. Dear friend Sarah,
    I've been wanting to catch up with you and ask how it was taking the kids horse back riding last night. I hope it wasn't too bad. I told Robert that if, even at the last minute, you have a conflict, you can tell us. Jeff did get home on time in the end.
    The images your "paint" of turning inward are hard to read. I wish I could give you a big hug and offer a warm dose of nerve strengthening drink.
    Your descriptions are poetic. Have you thought about trying to write more and in a different way than on the blog? Maybe it would engage you in a positive way.
    Its way past my bedtime now, so I'm going to sign off and hope that I talk to you tomorrow.
    Love, Miriam

  2. Sarah,
    So painful, so hard; you are strong. Remember to keep believing yourself. One day at a time. Breathe, and know that it will be OK, even when it seems like it is just too much. Sending lots of love,