Upgrade commence

Turns out blogger is a simple program that doesn't quite offer me the options I am looking for anymore. Which is a shame. I really wanted to just come back in  and reset up shop. This has me considering what other methods of communications I should embrace in this  Mamaskylark Reboot. Come what may. 

The Quiet Return of the Lark

It was another one of those times. The ones filled with dread and anxiety. The ones in which your inner voice relentlessly tells you "Steel yourself. You knew that most likely you would be here one day. Steel yourself. No matter how it went down, this isn't going to be pretty and you will still feel shock. After that there are the formalities that will need to be handled. You've mentally walked through them a dozen times over the years..but the reality may be hard to contend with... Steel yourself. And after the formalities you need to be strong so others can be weak. Steel yourself. You will be needed. Steel yourself."  

 A wave of relief crashes in as the door to the bedroom opens without resistance. She hasn't tied the vacuum cord to the door knob nor around her throat. Her body is not blocking the door. That doesn't mean that the room wont contain another gruesome sight. But at least the most likely scenario has not been played out and shoulders loosen a bit. You look at the body curled under blankets on the bed. You watch for the rise and fall of breathing. Your ears strain in the quiet to hear.. something .. anything.. that would indicate that she was merely asleep. Inching closer to the bed there signs are not detectable.  "Steel yourself." Quietly and gently you begin to say her name in a attempt to wake her up. She stirs. SHE STIRS! 

Another wave of relief, this time coupled with gratitude, breaks. You back out of the room as tears begin to touch your cheek. Its time for a good cry to purge some of the sorrow and stress that comes with supporting a individual with metal illness, To purge your momentary fears, To purge the anxiety. 

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That was how my Saturday began. 

She would wake up a few hours later. There was a friends baby shower to attend. She couldn't interact with me. Withdrawn. A shudder of repulsion when I asked if she wanted a hug. 20 minutes later she phones. There was a car accident. She is understandably shaken up and the little bit of information I get suggests that she is at fault, the car is really damaged and she doesn't know if she can drive it and that she is stressed. I give her the best brief pep talk I can and I let her go. She has police and insurance to deal with.  Its not a far stretch to suspect that she had disassociated at the wheel causing the accident. Its also not a far cry to think it might have been on purpose. I pace the room, staying calm but none the less worried as I get dad on the line. Hes about an hour away and just about wrapping up his job and heading home. He can beeline it towards her location. I text her asking for  the location and she messages back that the car is fine to drive, she is okay and will be heading to the party after all. I say a prayer and let her go on her way then reach out to dad ask him to pick up some caffeine for me on the way home. . 

This day is a little more fraught with distress than most. But it is not unusual. Our daughter's moods are erratic, and each day brings with it a great many challenges. I am not one to usually discuss this part of my life. On the surface and periphery of my existence, these things are hidden behind smiles and glimpse of nature and my carefully framed surroundings. Its my way of highlighting what beauty can be found in a psychological warzone. Its my way of contending with and of beating back the sadness that sits constantly and heavily on my heart. As the saying goes "Its always darkest at the base of a lighthouse." 

But there is another reason that much of the time these things remain quiet. She feels violated when I mention how things are to anyone. To tell her that my mom, her grandma. is sending her extra love while she is in the hospital, is enough to make her hate me and to feel betrayed that I told someone about her. Even if that someone is a person who loves her and would do anything for her. Even if it is her Grandma. And since taking care of her and navigating her ups and downs encompass the totality of my life... well... there is not much else to write or talk about without stepping on delicate toes.

And so I have grown increasingly silent in my communications. All communications. My world is small. Its been C19 Lock-down SMALL for years. Truth be told, during the restrictions, I never even noticed a change in my life. Outside of starting up the business with Greg and eventually closing it down. Which is whole another story for another time.

Now that some of that unde3rstanding is out of the way and  returning to the story of Saturday, What was it that  made me instinctually expect the worst? Her sleep cycle was off. Asleep by 6 and awake at midnight. In the morning she was in a high energy state as she entered into her day of therapy. Afterward, she was dragging. Dagger eyes and unable to speak. This is a worrisome state but it was later that it dawned on me that I had  had a long overdue debrief with my favorite cousin and that he may have reached out to her in concern. Oh Shit! Did I set one of her many triggers in motion? 

We are now successfully past that moment and new medications appear to be making a positive difference in her overall functioning. As I reflect on the whole of it, I realize just how good it was for me personally to have that conversation with my cousin. It was healthy for me to discuss my life. I understand my daughters position, but I NEED my own outlet. Dealing with her is stressful and I need to be able to speak to that...or anything I damn well please. 

And so I am returning here to my first blog. I am setting it up so that only those with the link  may see it and that way I can share more of my life with those outside of my home that are important to me (That's you!) and whom upon request won't turn around and speak of these things to her.

Welcome to the return of my voice. Settle in and add your email address to the form on this page. Then my updates will be sent directly to your email. 

Much Love!