I must admit, I've been a little frustrated lately. Since the beginning of the year, it's been back to back sickness for me and my family. I am beginning to feel a little like a castaway trapped on a raft in the middle of a vast sea. Occassionally I spy land–a small speck of steady earth upon which I can land my raft and stretch my legs–but just as I get my balance, another typhoon hits, and I am washed out to sea once more. It feels unending. Disheartening.
Last week, I was struck with a small amount of vomiting, a large amount of nausea, and a huge amount of fatigue for an solid week. I slept like a feline; lifting my head only to use the restroom and take sips of water. It was awful. I hate being bedridden. That's my raft. And my family has been along for the ride as well. Both my husband and my son had a traditional flu…a nasty one that left my usually lovey man very grumpy at being sole care giver to a son who's mom lay in a coma only a room away. We were pretty snippy with each other by the time we hit day 5.
I just am tired of being tired…and sick. And in pain. A person can only handle so much.
So today, with land fully in sight–not just a strip or a small patch but a pretty big island from what I can see before me–I am beyond excited. I want to go to Legoland with my son. I want to overhaul my house. I want to….
But I have to stop and just take a breath. I know that it's a delicate balance I am dealing with here. I need to take it one small, slow step at a time. I have to….it's been a long time since I've touched shore. I need to find my legs again.
So I'm blogging outside of a coffee shop…soaking up fresh air. Maybe I'll wash a load of laundry and play a little with my son once he gets out of preschool. And take lots of breaths. And pretend that I have all the time in the world. Cause I have to. I have to keep living like this will all be ok. Cause it always is. Cause I will make it be.
It's been one of those days. One of those days where you don't know exactly when the train derailed but where suddenly you find yourself one with a brick wall. Tired. Drained. Angry at everything and nothing at all….and just sad. It's a day where my physical resources are just tapped and my mental resources never really existed in the first place.
I yelled at my son today…more like raised my voice…but yelling for me.
I sighed more often than I breathed.
I smiled through a clenched jaw.
It's not one thing…I actually didn't have a bad day. It's just the accumulation of sick days upon sick days. It's a sick kid who's stir crazy. It's Valentine's day suddenly upon me before I'm ready for it and the mad scramble to make sure I can show my husband that he's important. It's being in the grocery store surrounded by a sea of pink and red…flowers and balloons… and suddenly realizing that I will never be able to buy my mother a rose again. That deep punch in my soul that came out of nowhere. It's my heart breaking. My motivation wavering. My self criticism peaking. It's…
time to fucking take a breath.
I'm alive. My son and husband are alive. Happy and alive. I'm sitting here at a coffee shop after a mad rush to get out…escape for just a minute and breathe. I'm here reminding myself that while it's ok to panic…ok to break…that I'm extraordinarily lucky. That my life is easy. My art still comes at my will. My love is overflowing. That I don't have to scrounge for my next meal. That I was able to choose to have the craziness that is my life. I am so very fortunate. Tomorrow, I have love to share with others who love me just as much back. I am soooo lucky.
I just needed a moment off the merry go round to remember that.
A moment to sift through my blogs to see a photo of a family that are hugging their child for the very last time here. To have my soul punched again back into proper perspective. I'm breathing again and I'm now sending my love mentally to another family who needs it much more than mine now. Damn…