I work with psychologists who tie in very closely with the psychiatric community. The people I work with assure me I’m not nuts. My friend and boss promises me that I don’t have some kind of strange disorder. When I look around, its quite easy to be in agreement with them.
My husband, well I’m not so sure he believes I don’t need some kind of therapy or at least super strength meds, because ultimately, he is the one that feels the brunt of my ‘strange days’. This past weekend was not the best for me as I had three consecutive sad days; we could call it a short holiday in the Pit of Despair if you prefer. Or I might have this idea that he thinks I’m slightly unhinged because he comes right out and says it, especially when I tell him things like I did this morning. I told him that I woke up twice during the night, my face wet with tears and the feeling of horrible loss upon me. (He is away for work this week.) He says these things while he is smiling (I can tell) but deep down I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t joking. Either way, I know he loves me just the same. (Besides, what he's had to contend with in his previous relationship makes my bizarre sleep patterns and occasional moments of unease seem like a walk in the park.)
We laughed as we discussed all the ways that I act like a person with serious mental health problems. But then we got serious as we talked through the reasons I might be waking myself up with such horrible dreams:
I’m at a stage in my life where I know I won’t ever have my own child and while I’ve been coming to terms with this, I had to confront the fact that my mother is battling a very aggressive form of breast cancer. Yes she is beating it but you never know when these things can sneak back up and bite you in the ass. Plus, she and I were on the phone last night talking about her hospital appointment to be marked for her impending radiation. The radiologist sent her for yet another cat scan, ‘just to be sure’, which is very thorough, yet still sends a little niggle of worry through me even though I know how fantastic her medical treatment has been and continues to be.
Add to the mix that I’m thousands of miles away from her. Yes it helps that we can talk on the phone every single day, sometimes twice a day if we feel like it. Yes I can send her little cards and gifts through the post to let her know how proud I am of her, and that I think of her all the time; but I feel like its not enough. (I’m sorry for mentioning this again, I know I’ve done so in previous posts.)
Andy and I are in the process of planning a trip to Ontario in October, primarily to meet my niece (which is long over due) and spend time with family and friends. We are going to try and make it a great holiday, getting out with friends and doing various activities (we would really like to see the national park) in between spending time with the family. Mom is pretty certain she will fly up to see me when I’m there, which would be fantastic. I would love to see her with the baby whom I know she loves so much (even though my own heart may hurt just a little.)
When I look at it all from this angle, I can assure myself that I’m not crazy, unhinged or a lost cause. I know that when I start to feel low it will pass and I will come out the other side feeling strong and healthy again – because I am. I’m a lucky woman for the blessings I do have in my life and I mustn’t spend time being sad about what can’t be, or might be. I have to be true to the girl I am: easy going and full of love for the people in my life, emotionally led maybe, yet with the ability to forgive - most of the time.
I have to live for today, this moment in time. And that’s exactly what I’m doing.
At least today :)