Through these recent events involving my daughter yet again hospitalized long term, I’ve been asked more than once “Are you okay?” I won’t bat an eye to think; my response is what they want to hear, nothing negative. But as I realized in a moment of reflection tonight no, I’m not okay. I’m far from okay.
You know one of those moments where you look in the mirror and ask yourself, “Who in the bleep am I??” That’s me all day, every day. Also, remove the “who” and put in “why” and “what” and “how”.
I pretend to be strong. I pretend I’m hanging in there. I pretend any feign of happiness. And this is me on autopilot. I couldn’t imagine plumbing the depths of me with time on my hands so I guess it could be worse.
I’m not cool with asking for help. This GoFundMe has been a blessing for sure but it’s not like me to hold my hand out. There’s so many families that need so much more than us. I want to be a blessing to them when this gaping wound in us has sealed and healed.
I haven’t cried since my daughter stopped breathing. It must be building up. I should sleep for two days straight but it isn’t like me, nor do I have that time luxury. I should have close friends to help keep me upright but I don’t and that’s my bad.
I shall conclude this pity party but what truly is the alternative to all this chaos, stress and exhaustion? More to come down the road? Death? I know the answer, for me any way. I’ll survive this, glaze it over and move on to the next curve ball of shite. This is how we do.
I do need help though. My well-being depends on it. My mental health corrodes ever so mildly and I’m exposed enough to know it. I have my higher power and theoretically that’s all I need but the practical, hands-on approach is where I suffer. I need counsel. And I need to serve others going through times similar to me. This is how I will get through.
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