Lately I have been struggling. The last couple of years I have been in and out of depression and anxiety. At times it affects everything I do, other times it just makes me tired. I'm not a depressed person by nature but I can be an anxious person by nature. I've been struggling mostly with living a new life with Michael. Michael is the same in some ways and in other ways he is different. It saddens me at times but other time I'm OK with it because he is still alive. One example of something that sets my nerves on edge is his voice. He has a slight vibration in his voice when he gets mad or when he says certain things. When I hear the vibration I tense up and want it to go away. Another example is when he looks in the mirror with his shirt off and he studies his scars and he says to me, "Don't you think this looks smaller?" When he says that I want to cry, hoping that we won't ever have to open up that scar ever again. I know that these feelings are normal, but I want so bad to feel happy and grateful for these things. Happy that he is here. Happy for his accomplishments, happy he can speak. Just the other day I saw a video on youtube about this couple. When they were dating the boyfriend got into a severe car accident and suffered severe brain trauma. Even though her boyfriend couldn't walk or talk this girl still married her love. My heart was so full to see such Christlike love. I do feel this love for Michael but I hate my anxiety. It causes me too much wasted energy and what might happen or on what did happen. It puts blocks up on my gratitude and my excitement for the future. I was talking to one of my friends about this the other day and she told me how much time she takes for herself each day, how much self reflection she does. I don't do that anymore. I don't know why. She helped remind me of what I need to do to help myself. I really think I have been suffering from post traumatic stress. I know what solders suffer from when they come back from war. They see so much suffering and death. I saw Michael suffer for so long and continue to see him suffer. I saw way too much. My goal for this next month is to self reflect more. I need to. The picture above is the one picture I have a love hate relationship with. It was taken after his first open heart surgery. It signifies the end to an old life and the beginning of a new one, one that I had no clue I would have. I am grateful for the outcome of everything I just want my anxiety to go away so I can enjoy my gratitude and my new life even more. I'm ending with this awful picture because part of me just wants to delete it. It signifies how deep our trauma went and how horrible and scary it was. It was taken after his second open heart surgery, after he went into cardiac arrest for the second time. I took the picture so he could see it because he didn't know what had happened to him. Beware, this picture is not for the faint of heart.
3 comments:
Oh my word. Of course you have ptsd. My sister's suffering from that as a result of her daughter's elevator accident. It changes everything and no one can truly understand. That said, you've got an amazing ability to see yourself from the outside in. This is help you so much as you make your way through this new life chapter. Love you, Jo.
I hope writing it out helps, and now you have it here as a reminder that you need to take time for yourself, because even if it the trauma physically did not happen to you, it definitely did emotionally.
You are a strong woman, and I am glad you seem to know it is okay for even strong women to need to breathe sometimes.
You and I have so much in common. I medicate for the anxiety. I need to not just for me but for my husband and kids. I take elavil for anxiety and to help me sleep. That shouldn't be a shameful thing, but it is in this culture. It it were a life jacket it would be mandatory. We will always have the fear - what if, how is he feeling, how will this mri be? But we can't live in fear. It is a new normal and we are lucky to have this second chance however frightening. Peace.
Post a Comment