I have fought, I have pushed on, I have stood strong. I have fought the pain and the truth and I have kicked it down so hard I did not think it would ever appear. I swept it under the rug, into the corner, into the cracks. I dug a hole in the dessert and buried it 10 feet under. I denied. I did not waver. I carried on.
Now I forget, I forget how I did it. I don’t know how to do it any more. I try to remember, I try to figure out what has changed. The breath gets stolen from my chest, I blink harder trying to forget. Is this what it feels like? Is this the aftermath of war? As we approach the one year mark the reality of everything settles. As I try to settle back into the comforts of routine, to participate again in the normalcy of life.
Wake
Eat
Clean
Out the Door
Drop off 1
Drop off 2
Work
Lunch
Work
Return
Pick up 1
Pick up 2
Walk
Park
Fish
Dinner
Bath
Story
Bed
Repeat
I try to be present in these moments. The moments that make the day but I wander, I falter, I drift. I feel the lie I live, I feel me give up my honesty, the truth in my writing. The greater purpose I felt of this situation diminishes daily. I thought that if I wrote this blog, wrote the voyage, I could give back make it all have meaning. I was so lost at diagnosis, trying to research and find information, all in vain. I wanted just one mother to read my blog and know that they were not alone. But somewhere along the line the truth of the situation just became to hard. The human nature to care to much what others will think drowned the truth in my words. I added a filter to make it pretty. I added many filters, so many that I lost the original image.
I am home now, but it is not in the home I left from. This is a new home. A home that is “Mommies”. It is hard, and it is lonely but it is no more harder and sadder then denying who I am every day. The harder part is not knowing, is being kept in the dark. People ask how Aiden is, and on repeat I say “coming along” but the truth is I really do not know. I am angry and bitter and hateful and those are awful feeling to feel. And I think about the larger picture, is this a cruel test? Is the overall outcomes pre determined or is this just crazy delusion that “Magical Thinking” exists.
So the truth, no more speaking in metaphors and overly beautified, descriptive text. The truth:
It’s quite possible you have PTSD. You’ve been through a tramatic experience. The brain has a safety mechanism that plots out pain. I’m missing most of the 90s. Don’t question it or try to recall. Just say I’m blocking that, I’m going forward not back. You did great so hold your head up and be glad some things are missing now focus on today and tomorrow.