Thursday, May 24, 2012

"That which does not kill us makes us stronger" -Friedrich Nietzsche

(I am not actually a fan of Neitzsche, I'd rather quote from Psalms, but this was easier for me to think of. I need to be reminded of strength which comes from trials. It's all over Psalms, but I am not a pro at quoting Psalms. That's not to say I am a pro at quoting Neitzsche, but... well, let's move on.)

I'm at some sort of breaking point.
It is the fork in the road.
One option shows the Sarah who is a strong, capable mother with talents and careers. It's newly paved road is obviously untrodden.

The other road is the Sarah who is the NF survivor. It's truth tells of a complicated medical history including a rare bug which nearly killed her, a rare tumor in the same damaged joint, and 7 surgeries in 5 years. That road's worn dignity is plagued with chronic pain, constant fatigue, and inability to work at the well-earned careers she boasts. That road is unlit, so it is challenging to find one's way back home.

That crossroad is making life unmanageable. Because the truth is somewhere in between.

In between two crossroads is what?
An island.
No-man's land.

Life has been so crazy for me, it has even been hard to blog. I have no time. I'm late for everything. When the day ends, I am so exhausted all I want to do is sleep. I *want* to write; all day every day words and lines weave themselves around my thoughts. If I had one of those tablets or iphones, I'd probably write them down more. I just can't seem to get out the ol' pen & paper to jot thoughts down. Lazy. :)

Recently my writing mentor has offered to share her thoughts on how she sees my book unfolding. She suggested a Skype conference so we can work together and make progress. I originally agreed, then cancelled, saying I'm not ready (and worrying about the cost of these meetings).

Then yesterday a woman called me wanting a childbirth preparation course. She sounded so nice over the phone, and as I was sitting in the car at the yearly "test", I agreed to take her on, thinking about opening my doula room (and kicking out the children's toys) once again.
Today I spoke with her and apologized that I'd have to decline. Yesterday I told her that I'd been not working for quite a while because of health reasons, but I am ready, and would be happy to take her on. Today I said that actually I realized I am not ready. I gave her the number of the doula to whom I have been rerouting all my perspective clients.

Two almost steps to change in a positive direction, two steps backward, pulling away from returning to any sort of commitment to anyone except my family. And do you want to know a secret? It is an awful, sad secret... sometimes I even want to step back from my commitment to my family. I just want to freeze the children in time like those film freeze-frames, and heal until I have no more pain, and only need 8 hours of sleep every 24. But that ain't gonna happen. Time marches on, and you get left behind if you need to do a thing like heal or rest.

Everything is wrong at this crossroad. Robert is exhausted from supporting me and the rest of the household. It is effecting everyone in the house. Even the kids are tired often and running late. Robert doesn't say a word at this crossroad; he doesn't know what to say. He waits, not saying anything, not wanting me to feel pressured. *That* can make me feel pressured. I feel as though my illnesses and surgeries have screwed up everything. They have. I haven't, but they have.


My mother is getting better, thank Gd, very incrementally, but it is happening.
My father will undergo a hip replacement at the end of June. I want to go there.
Because my father reads my blogs, he told me, on behalf of both of them, not to come.
That my family needs me to make up for all the lost time when I was sick.

Crossroad, shmossroad!!
 If parents are sick, their children get scared.
They have to be with them.

Dad, I can do this, and my family supports me. *You* are my original family, and I need to be with you at that time. Yes, I am struggling. Not going to be with you and mom at this difficult time, for your surgery and recovery, would add to the struggle, not lighten the burden. I want to spend time with mom because I love her, and because you won't be able to. Please don't tell me not to come. I won't break. It may even be good for us.

In the final analysis, we go on the best we can. Everyone has their struggles.
I read a blog written by a woman who lost her 9-year-old son to illness he was born with, then only 3 `1/2 months later lost her husband suddenly. He just died out of the blue, after they had a lovely day at the beach. The funerals were practically back-to-back. She is left with her three other young sons to take care of and bring up, a widow at 37. She recently (a few days ago) celebrated paying off the mortgage on the house, even though it was paid off with the pay-out of her husband's life insurance. She is making the best of a horrible tragic situation.

Granted, our problems are different, but I say to myself: if she can make it through her sorrow and see the good, then why can't I? I mean, you all know I can, but there is so much "I can't" in my thinking, that sometimes I don't see or feel the end of it. How to get rid of the "I can't" is the issue here. (I may say "I cant", but then I go about doing it anyway. I don't appreciate what I do do.)

I can and I will. With the help of Gd.

1 comment :

  1. Is it pressuring to say I agre with your dad? It might be hard for you to not be there but it might be hard for him to know you are coming when he supports you staying home.