there have been a handful of times in my life where i have been confronted with the fact that i have inflicted unspeakable pain upon someone i love and that i have done so completely unknowingly.....today was one of those times.
i am sitting in the cozy surrounds of my loungeroom, as a fierce wind blows outside - i hear it in the treetops and it brushes my skin through the windows - drinking red wine and running an endless loop in my head, alternating between anger and self justification and just a deep and profound grief.
i'm confronted - again - that sometimes it is all we can do to love from afar.
it pains me that love transmutes into something nasty and putrid and painful.
today marked a fundamental shift in my relationship with my oldest and perhaps dearest friend, and i am grasping onto a hope that she is not lost to me forever. let this just be a bend in the road, not an
irretrievable loss.
but i have to wonder why this is. this has happened to me before - when a dear loved one has angrily cut me loose due to an entrenched feeling of subjugation. i'm forced to ponder - do i really misuse my power to such a degree as to mortally wound those i hold dear????? what is it in my character, what can i do differently to avoid coming to this place again????
and it makes me feel wary of close relationship. if i am so fundamentally flawed (i mean, it really is a fundamental problem if i can't even see where i am going wrong) then i know i will only ultimately hurt those to whom i feel close, somehow.....in a way i don't quite understand....
god....i'm going round and round in circles on this....
Tuesday, 22 October 2013
Tuesday, 15 October 2013
....from the mouths of babes....
discussing feelings with my 7 year old.
talking about anger, sadness, tiredness, frustration - trying to tease out one from the other; attempting to identify what we are actually feeling at any given time.
she's a child of quite startling depth. faced with the theory that we can sit in many different emotions at any given moment, she struggled through genuine tears of grief to tell me that she has a part of her which is very, very sad, and which will always be there, always be a part of her. 'we share that sadness, you and me' she said.
talking about redemption with my 7 year old.
talking about choosing our own identity, working with the idea that we all of us have challenges, a drive to self improvement. identifying times when we each have felt truly happy, and seeing how feeling happy is tied up in also feeling generous, giving, loving, compassionate, empathetic....
together, we are accepting the notion that we can choose our own perception, from moment to moment - that each moment is a gift, to be evaluated and explored, choices made about how we respond, and how our responses will shape the next moment, and the next.
these children of mine truly drive me - sometimes, they drive me to distraction, others they drive me up the wall, often they drive me crazy and a few times even to the very edge of the abyss.....then there are the times where the place they drive me to is exactly the place i need to be, if only i had seen it for myself.
it used to really irk me that i was living a cliche - parenting the inner child whilst parenting my children; seeing in my child's eyes my younger self, crying out for guidance, acceptance, nurturing, unconditional love. i see it now as a symbiosis - as i teach them i learn, as they learn they teach me, we learn together as we teach each other.
and, in this moment, i am grateful. grateful that a bedtime conversation takes me out of my own feelings of tension and resentment, and that through my child's struggles we both learn to be gentle, on ourselves, and on each other.
talking about anger, sadness, tiredness, frustration - trying to tease out one from the other; attempting to identify what we are actually feeling at any given time.
she's a child of quite startling depth. faced with the theory that we can sit in many different emotions at any given moment, she struggled through genuine tears of grief to tell me that she has a part of her which is very, very sad, and which will always be there, always be a part of her. 'we share that sadness, you and me' she said.
talking about redemption with my 7 year old.
talking about choosing our own identity, working with the idea that we all of us have challenges, a drive to self improvement. identifying times when we each have felt truly happy, and seeing how feeling happy is tied up in also feeling generous, giving, loving, compassionate, empathetic....
together, we are accepting the notion that we can choose our own perception, from moment to moment - that each moment is a gift, to be evaluated and explored, choices made about how we respond, and how our responses will shape the next moment, and the next.
these children of mine truly drive me - sometimes, they drive me to distraction, others they drive me up the wall, often they drive me crazy and a few times even to the very edge of the abyss.....then there are the times where the place they drive me to is exactly the place i need to be, if only i had seen it for myself.
it used to really irk me that i was living a cliche - parenting the inner child whilst parenting my children; seeing in my child's eyes my younger self, crying out for guidance, acceptance, nurturing, unconditional love. i see it now as a symbiosis - as i teach them i learn, as they learn they teach me, we learn together as we teach each other.
and, in this moment, i am grateful. grateful that a bedtime conversation takes me out of my own feelings of tension and resentment, and that through my child's struggles we both learn to be gentle, on ourselves, and on each other.
Friday, 9 August 2013
more friday night musings.....
Musing on the nature of connection tonight. The inevitability
of it. the absolute randomness of it. sometimes there’s just no rhyme or reason
to it. there are times when a connection, when it reveals itself, seems pure
lunacy. at others, a connection is so unarguably ‘right’ and not even requiring
of scrutiny.
We connect with people on so many levels – some more subtle,
some more overt, than others. Sometimes we even connect with people on levels
we didn’t know we had – heights AND depths!
Some connections can just occupy a corner of our minds, our
lives, a certain little window of illumination which is only apparent at a
certain time and place in space. Others burn
so brightly that all the details are seared away in the luminescence and we are
consumed. Sometimes we give in willingly
to the resonance, and at others we fight it…..
And also mulling over the idea of openness. And how it is we open. There are people who
rip us open, snatching the sensitivity from us, demanding truth and
openheartedness and not taking no for an answer.
Those who no amount of psychic protection will keep out.
Those who demand to be seen. Felt.
Then those who hover, much like a hummingbird, never quite alighting
yet constantly darting in, at once relentless as a mosquito scenting blood, yet
also as alluring as a sunbeam. An emanation of warmth which calls forth a
welcome response, an answering radiance drawn from the very depths of one’s
being.
Those with whom we bask in a metaphysical sunlight.
Those with whom we may never speak, yet know completely.
The different natures of openness, too, consumes me. At times I’m resistant, not wanting to
acknowledge connection, at a particular time, or in a particular place, or with
a particular person (and sometimes all three at once!)
And yet with others I feel myself unfolding, unfurling,
revealing in a most exquisite way.
And the truth of it all is this – it is all completely
random. I cannot intellectualise my connections. I cannot reason them into some
kind of pleasing order. I can neither justify nor deny my resonance with
another.
It just simply IS.
Sunday, 23 June 2013
a solstice gift - a ray of light on this longest of nights.....
i met a very lovely young man tonight....by young, i mean younger than me! I think he was aged maybe 30. I was at a solstice party at a friend's house about an hour away from here. it was a reasonably restrained affair - vegetarian bbq and sangria, with the added indulgence of a session in their steam room. my kids opted to contribute chocolate fondue strawberries and fresh whipped cream to the feast, which was a welcomed and exciting addition to the festivities.
the young man in question was visiting the area and i'm not quite sure of the connection but think he was a friend of my friend's housemate...
he presented as a quite friendly, open and gentle individual with interests in music, yoga, drawing, and a carpenter by trade. he also happens to have an extremely rare and aggressive cancer which is growing around his spinal cord, is resistant to conventional therapies, and causes him to suffer from chronic and often unbearable pain.
it was bizarre and unusual to meet someone in this position. as he spoke to me about his condition it was like I was having a conversation with myself......he described his illness as one which is ridiculously rare. apparently it is generally unheard of in one of his age - usually afflicting young children. his presentation is not as would be expected or has been observed before. the similarities to my daughter's condition were striking.
I cannot adequately convey the gentleness, and joy of this individual. he confessed that, now two years since first diagnosis, it is not something he really thinks about very often. with the failure of conventional treatments, and with the tumour remaining in his body and causing him extreme pain, he has embraced his own intuitive style of therapy. he uses regular yoga, and breathing techniques to help him manage the pain. he uses foods as medicine, and maintains a conscious and constant awareness of his body's needs from moment to moment.
he positively radiated light as he spoke to me of the wonderful people he has met along the way and the lessons he has been learning, courtesy of this scourge. this was a young man in love with life; who accepted the rapid change in his life direction, and totally embraced a new way of being.
it was a relatively brief meeting, but an inspiring interaction, which reminded me of a few things which I tend to forget in this whirlwind of my life.....
the young man in question was visiting the area and i'm not quite sure of the connection but think he was a friend of my friend's housemate...
he presented as a quite friendly, open and gentle individual with interests in music, yoga, drawing, and a carpenter by trade. he also happens to have an extremely rare and aggressive cancer which is growing around his spinal cord, is resistant to conventional therapies, and causes him to suffer from chronic and often unbearable pain.
it was bizarre and unusual to meet someone in this position. as he spoke to me about his condition it was like I was having a conversation with myself......he described his illness as one which is ridiculously rare. apparently it is generally unheard of in one of his age - usually afflicting young children. his presentation is not as would be expected or has been observed before. the similarities to my daughter's condition were striking.
I cannot adequately convey the gentleness, and joy of this individual. he confessed that, now two years since first diagnosis, it is not something he really thinks about very often. with the failure of conventional treatments, and with the tumour remaining in his body and causing him extreme pain, he has embraced his own intuitive style of therapy. he uses regular yoga, and breathing techniques to help him manage the pain. he uses foods as medicine, and maintains a conscious and constant awareness of his body's needs from moment to moment.
he positively radiated light as he spoke to me of the wonderful people he has met along the way and the lessons he has been learning, courtesy of this scourge. this was a young man in love with life; who accepted the rapid change in his life direction, and totally embraced a new way of being.
it was a relatively brief meeting, but an inspiring interaction, which reminded me of a few things which I tend to forget in this whirlwind of my life.....
Friday, 14 June 2013
picture imperfect
Friday, 14th of June -
a good day
in fact a day of good:-
good news
good fortune
good company
good weather
good ideas
the list is seemingly endless...
there I was sitting on a low wooden, slightly damp bench seat against the wire fence of my daughters' school. it was mid afternoon, school was finished. about fifteen children remained in the playground, waiting for the last bus, or parents who were chatting, or running late. leaning back against the hedge which grows from behind the fence, the chill winter breeze kissing my cheeks and nose as I snuggle down into the scarf around my neck.
I watch my youngest daughter as she idly swings herself in circles around the basketball hoop, her golden hair plastered across her face, her mouth moving silently in some song or game or fancy - no doubt involving fairies and gnomes. a moment later she is off, absorbed into a game of chasing involving two or three other little girls of varying age, size and temperament.
my middle girl is holding court against five or six boys and girls, on the handball court. they good naturedly jostle each other for supremacy, arguing about rules and hierarchies. dressed as they mostly are in blues, greens and purples, some barefoot and bare armed, others buttoned up in bright, bold coats or swathed in rich cosy woollen creations; they are beautiful, tousled, grinning children....
such a joy to behold.
as I look around at my surroundings, breathing in the colours of the children's clothing, the sunlight at the very tops of the gum trees, achingly cloudless blue sky, the mud and flowers and cubby house and buildings; as I close my eyes and listen to the singing, protesting, laughing, chanting children, the murmur of school gate catch ups among parents, the whistling of the wind through the leaves....I smile to myself and marvel....I am filled with gratitude.
good news today came in the form of a good scan result for my eldest daughter. it followed a time of worry, and at times crippling anxiety resulting from a not so good scan result about two weeks ago. anyway, today for us felt like a reprieve. this positive result means my daughter can confidently take a month or so away from treatment for her cancer - the first break she's really had for about six months. she has her first ever university exam early next week, and then is travelling overseas with her friends on the weekend. she was so relieved today and said she can finally allow herself to be excited about going away, without the background anxiety about being unwell. as we walked through the hospital after seeing the oncologist, I couldn't resist doing a little jig and a jump in the air. I would have done a cartwheel if there was not a big ridiculous tiled column in the middle of the walkway. we walked out of the controlled air of the hospital into a winter morning positively bathed in golden sunlight. we giggled giddily as we remembered the cheeky, dodgy park i'd done in a doctor's carpark as we were running late and anxious to get to the appointment.
good fortune favoured me when I bought my regular friday raffle ticket on the street in nimbin later in the morning. of course I got stuck doing odds and ends in the shop and was still around when the raffle was drawn and I won! $100!! again, I stood in the sun, grinning like an idiot, as I was handed a crisp, and unexpected greenback.
I've had a good idea today, but in it's execution, I wonder if it really was such a good idea, and I guess only time will tell....I bought some blackboard paint. I had a pantry built in my kitchen about a year ago and we suddenly had a big, unadorned, untreated fibreboard door, right there, in our space. it's been yawning at me this whole time, begging me to paint it. I've always been a fan of the public blackboard space, and have seen occasional masterpieces appear on them. the last time I did this I painted a random smear on the wall above my fridge (which is one of those intense looking chest style ones which run on 12volt), in our old house on the mountain. that chalkboard was both a blessing and a curse at times! in that house we also had a big round chalkboard on the back of a huge wardrobe which formed the partition which allowed me a bedroom. both of these boards attracted doodles, poems, flowers, stars and love hearts, whilst periodically annoying me with their dust and disorder....
anyway, I just went to paint another random smear, but the space is so much bigger and I couldn't make it look right, so I just painted the whole thing! and now I have this HUGE, BLACK panel in my kitchen, which impacts on the entire living space with it's....blackness....and now the damn thing is still yawning at me!! tomorrow i'll get some beautiful bright chalks and we can overwhelm that blackness with shopping lists and birthday wishes and phone messages and rainbows.
as I waited for the first coat of paint to dry I made myself a pot of tea. it was a truly inspired pot of tea. all I put in there was nettle and rose petals. the result is lovely, clean and slightly sweet....so warm and fragrant. i'm so inspired by that pot of tea that i'm thinking about buying a camera, so I can photograph the steam rising up off the rose petals, with their differing shades of pink and magenta, against the wholesome dark green of the nettles, nestling there in the mesh basket surrounded by butterflies on my ceramic tea pot.
and lest I paint too beautiful a picture of my immediacy let me tell you about the mouse which just ran across the arm of the couch where i'm sitting. and the other one which keeps running back and forth along the wall behind the fireplace. and the one I can hear in the kitchen, though whenever I go over there I can't find it. I caught two last night, in a live trap baited with peanut butter. I released them under a tree when I dropped my kids off at the bus this morning. I must say I felt a bit clever this morning, but now as the nightly rodent circus resumes in my living space I concede defeat, again, as I do every night.....
a good day
in fact a day of good:-
good news
good fortune
good company
good weather
good ideas
the list is seemingly endless...
there I was sitting on a low wooden, slightly damp bench seat against the wire fence of my daughters' school. it was mid afternoon, school was finished. about fifteen children remained in the playground, waiting for the last bus, or parents who were chatting, or running late. leaning back against the hedge which grows from behind the fence, the chill winter breeze kissing my cheeks and nose as I snuggle down into the scarf around my neck.
I watch my youngest daughter as she idly swings herself in circles around the basketball hoop, her golden hair plastered across her face, her mouth moving silently in some song or game or fancy - no doubt involving fairies and gnomes. a moment later she is off, absorbed into a game of chasing involving two or three other little girls of varying age, size and temperament.
my middle girl is holding court against five or six boys and girls, on the handball court. they good naturedly jostle each other for supremacy, arguing about rules and hierarchies. dressed as they mostly are in blues, greens and purples, some barefoot and bare armed, others buttoned up in bright, bold coats or swathed in rich cosy woollen creations; they are beautiful, tousled, grinning children....
such a joy to behold.
as I look around at my surroundings, breathing in the colours of the children's clothing, the sunlight at the very tops of the gum trees, achingly cloudless blue sky, the mud and flowers and cubby house and buildings; as I close my eyes and listen to the singing, protesting, laughing, chanting children, the murmur of school gate catch ups among parents, the whistling of the wind through the leaves....I smile to myself and marvel....I am filled with gratitude.
good news today came in the form of a good scan result for my eldest daughter. it followed a time of worry, and at times crippling anxiety resulting from a not so good scan result about two weeks ago. anyway, today for us felt like a reprieve. this positive result means my daughter can confidently take a month or so away from treatment for her cancer - the first break she's really had for about six months. she has her first ever university exam early next week, and then is travelling overseas with her friends on the weekend. she was so relieved today and said she can finally allow herself to be excited about going away, without the background anxiety about being unwell. as we walked through the hospital after seeing the oncologist, I couldn't resist doing a little jig and a jump in the air. I would have done a cartwheel if there was not a big ridiculous tiled column in the middle of the walkway. we walked out of the controlled air of the hospital into a winter morning positively bathed in golden sunlight. we giggled giddily as we remembered the cheeky, dodgy park i'd done in a doctor's carpark as we were running late and anxious to get to the appointment.
good fortune favoured me when I bought my regular friday raffle ticket on the street in nimbin later in the morning. of course I got stuck doing odds and ends in the shop and was still around when the raffle was drawn and I won! $100!! again, I stood in the sun, grinning like an idiot, as I was handed a crisp, and unexpected greenback.
I've had a good idea today, but in it's execution, I wonder if it really was such a good idea, and I guess only time will tell....I bought some blackboard paint. I had a pantry built in my kitchen about a year ago and we suddenly had a big, unadorned, untreated fibreboard door, right there, in our space. it's been yawning at me this whole time, begging me to paint it. I've always been a fan of the public blackboard space, and have seen occasional masterpieces appear on them. the last time I did this I painted a random smear on the wall above my fridge (which is one of those intense looking chest style ones which run on 12volt), in our old house on the mountain. that chalkboard was both a blessing and a curse at times! in that house we also had a big round chalkboard on the back of a huge wardrobe which formed the partition which allowed me a bedroom. both of these boards attracted doodles, poems, flowers, stars and love hearts, whilst periodically annoying me with their dust and disorder....
anyway, I just went to paint another random smear, but the space is so much bigger and I couldn't make it look right, so I just painted the whole thing! and now I have this HUGE, BLACK panel in my kitchen, which impacts on the entire living space with it's....blackness....and now the damn thing is still yawning at me!! tomorrow i'll get some beautiful bright chalks and we can overwhelm that blackness with shopping lists and birthday wishes and phone messages and rainbows.
as I waited for the first coat of paint to dry I made myself a pot of tea. it was a truly inspired pot of tea. all I put in there was nettle and rose petals. the result is lovely, clean and slightly sweet....so warm and fragrant. i'm so inspired by that pot of tea that i'm thinking about buying a camera, so I can photograph the steam rising up off the rose petals, with their differing shades of pink and magenta, against the wholesome dark green of the nettles, nestling there in the mesh basket surrounded by butterflies on my ceramic tea pot.
and lest I paint too beautiful a picture of my immediacy let me tell you about the mouse which just ran across the arm of the couch where i'm sitting. and the other one which keeps running back and forth along the wall behind the fireplace. and the one I can hear in the kitchen, though whenever I go over there I can't find it. I caught two last night, in a live trap baited with peanut butter. I released them under a tree when I dropped my kids off at the bus this morning. I must say I felt a bit clever this morning, but now as the nightly rodent circus resumes in my living space I concede defeat, again, as I do every night.....
Wednesday, 22 May 2013
me and centrelink go way back
so, I quit my job yesterday.
it was actually a little more complex than that might seem; but conversely so very simple....
working for myself, as I do, it's not so much a 'job' I have left. I have simply relieved myself of the two days work per week I have been doing in my shop, which I share with two very dear, and very accommodating friends. I have stepped out of the role of shopgirl, which I've filled for the last year and a bit. though, given that it's still a new business, it's not a role which has generated any income for me throughout that time, either. so I haven't actually given up any money by leaving my job.
I have stepped away from any managerial role for the foreseeable future as well. my business partners have so graciously, and gracefully, allowed me the space to put down that weight, so I may work on redistributing, and carrying my other weights with more care and attention....now that's heart centred business in action! thankyou girls.....x
so I have essentially walked away from one of my babies. I love that shop. I love what we three co-created. it's beautiful. and it has served such wonderful purpose for me over the last little while. we envisaged a hub - a place where we could meet friends and strangers, and slow down a minute, sip tea and just chat....the outcome is that i have found such a strong and diverse and nourishing network existing through that space......ah.....I will miss working in town...
ultimately, though, I found that I have been trying to juggle too many balls, and for too long. I have used up all of my reserves of strength and energy. when I try to dispassionately list my priorities at this time in my life, my children, all three of them, crowd up at the top of the ladder and there is simply no ROOM for anything extraneous. and i think that when something loved becomes a burden, instead of a joyful expression of self, it is time to put that load down and have a rest, before regrouping and carrying on with the rest of it.
i will really miss working regularly, though.
i haven't worked full time for about eighteen years, which is probably why i enjoy working when i do. in that time, I have worked and parented, studied and parented, worked, while studying and parenting, and just plain parented....but I have always enjoyed the social aspect of working in nimbin. there's a lot of therapy that goes on in our streets - every moment of every day!
right now, though, i'm chasing a different kind of therapy. one that involves an axe, and rounds of wood. also it involves fireside chats with glasses of red wine in hand; bedtime stories with hot water bottles and rosy cheeked children; bad tv in bed with chocolate; soccer games and the skatepark; walks in the forest; aimless weeding; the chatter that only happens whilst collecting kindling with my children; cheeky daytime naps; the brief schoolyard connections at pick up time.....who knows? maybe even baking....oh, and endless cups of tea!
it was actually a little more complex than that might seem; but conversely so very simple....
working for myself, as I do, it's not so much a 'job' I have left. I have simply relieved myself of the two days work per week I have been doing in my shop, which I share with two very dear, and very accommodating friends. I have stepped out of the role of shopgirl, which I've filled for the last year and a bit. though, given that it's still a new business, it's not a role which has generated any income for me throughout that time, either. so I haven't actually given up any money by leaving my job.
I have stepped away from any managerial role for the foreseeable future as well. my business partners have so graciously, and gracefully, allowed me the space to put down that weight, so I may work on redistributing, and carrying my other weights with more care and attention....now that's heart centred business in action! thankyou girls.....x
so I have essentially walked away from one of my babies. I love that shop. I love what we three co-created. it's beautiful. and it has served such wonderful purpose for me over the last little while. we envisaged a hub - a place where we could meet friends and strangers, and slow down a minute, sip tea and just chat....the outcome is that i have found such a strong and diverse and nourishing network existing through that space......ah.....I will miss working in town...
ultimately, though, I found that I have been trying to juggle too many balls, and for too long. I have used up all of my reserves of strength and energy. when I try to dispassionately list my priorities at this time in my life, my children, all three of them, crowd up at the top of the ladder and there is simply no ROOM for anything extraneous. and i think that when something loved becomes a burden, instead of a joyful expression of self, it is time to put that load down and have a rest, before regrouping and carrying on with the rest of it.
i will really miss working regularly, though.
i haven't worked full time for about eighteen years, which is probably why i enjoy working when i do. in that time, I have worked and parented, studied and parented, worked, while studying and parenting, and just plain parented....but I have always enjoyed the social aspect of working in nimbin. there's a lot of therapy that goes on in our streets - every moment of every day!
right now, though, i'm chasing a different kind of therapy. one that involves an axe, and rounds of wood. also it involves fireside chats with glasses of red wine in hand; bedtime stories with hot water bottles and rosy cheeked children; bad tv in bed with chocolate; soccer games and the skatepark; walks in the forest; aimless weeding; the chatter that only happens whilst collecting kindling with my children; cheeky daytime naps; the brief schoolyard connections at pick up time.....who knows? maybe even baking....oh, and endless cups of tea!
Thursday, 16 May 2013
day four blues
it's day four, and it's a grind.
I think my limit for 24/7 caring is about three and a half days. is it wrong of me to be feeling so resentful?
after a couple of days of this I lose the power of speech, and if I do happen to answer the phone, or be required to converse - at school, or the supermarket - i'm unable.
it's impossible to not be forward planning - or forward stressing in many cases.
the thing is, we know this illness. this is chemo sick. we have run the course of the fatigue, dizziness, malaise, nausea, wandering pains, bruising, loss of spirit. we have weathered this storm and seen that it ends.
but what of later? what of the OTHER illness? how will I possibly sustain this role when it gets REALLY bad???
I've organised a babysitter/companion for a couple of hours tomorrow night, so I can have a break. and grateful for the prospect, too. it's good that there is enough predictability in this chemo regime that I can safely pop out for a few hours.
it's just so relentless. my other children go to school, and to sleep, and I get a break from them. my eldest dozes a bit during the day, and sleeps for about eight hours at night (though i'm aware of every thump and cough). for every minute that she is awake, I am on call. glasses of water, cups of tea, fresh fruit, cooked meals, remaking the bed, opening the window, taking away dirty tissues and dishes, massaging her feet, washing her clothes, keeping hot water bottles hot, dashing to town for supplies of her latest craving ----- the list is ENDLESS. I groaned a couple of months ago when her grandad sent her home with a doorbell to use in emergencies (the button is in her room and the ringer is in mine). it broke fairly soon after, but I've been so anxious some nights that I've thought I really need to replace it....
just when I think i'm getting my domestic chores in order, there's another demand to be met. after days and nights of it I am so worn out and my patience is wearing thin.
but there is just nowhere to put these feelings. i'm not proud of feeling this resentment. many's the time I've thought i'd do ANYTHING for this child, and now here's my chance. I have joked with her over many years, whenever she accused me of some awful deed in our past I would retort with : 'yeah, well you stole my youth so I think we might be nearly even'. but who am I kidding? I have given this child my life. my entire, independent, adult life has been for and about this child. the others, too, of course, but ultimately her, because she has been with me every step of the way. she is my constant in a changing world. turning 40 this year I will have lived half of my life as a mother.
even with the other two, who need me more than their big sister ever has, I project into a future without her and I feel rudderless. she's the one who has kept me on the straight and narrow. the one who demanded a certain way of life, certain luxuries, when I would have turned my back on all of society and it's conventions.
........
the real problem is that I am stuck at home, my only company an acutely ill teenager. i'm having all of these thoughts in my head and there's nowhere for them to go. I cannot burden her with them. no one comes over and I only leave for the briefest of mad dashes into town for supplies, or for the school run. I am alone with my thoughts FAR TOO MUCH......
I think my limit for 24/7 caring is about three and a half days. is it wrong of me to be feeling so resentful?
after a couple of days of this I lose the power of speech, and if I do happen to answer the phone, or be required to converse - at school, or the supermarket - i'm unable.
it's impossible to not be forward planning - or forward stressing in many cases.
the thing is, we know this illness. this is chemo sick. we have run the course of the fatigue, dizziness, malaise, nausea, wandering pains, bruising, loss of spirit. we have weathered this storm and seen that it ends.
but what of later? what of the OTHER illness? how will I possibly sustain this role when it gets REALLY bad???
I've organised a babysitter/companion for a couple of hours tomorrow night, so I can have a break. and grateful for the prospect, too. it's good that there is enough predictability in this chemo regime that I can safely pop out for a few hours.
it's just so relentless. my other children go to school, and to sleep, and I get a break from them. my eldest dozes a bit during the day, and sleeps for about eight hours at night (though i'm aware of every thump and cough). for every minute that she is awake, I am on call. glasses of water, cups of tea, fresh fruit, cooked meals, remaking the bed, opening the window, taking away dirty tissues and dishes, massaging her feet, washing her clothes, keeping hot water bottles hot, dashing to town for supplies of her latest craving ----- the list is ENDLESS. I groaned a couple of months ago when her grandad sent her home with a doorbell to use in emergencies (the button is in her room and the ringer is in mine). it broke fairly soon after, but I've been so anxious some nights that I've thought I really need to replace it....
just when I think i'm getting my domestic chores in order, there's another demand to be met. after days and nights of it I am so worn out and my patience is wearing thin.
but there is just nowhere to put these feelings. i'm not proud of feeling this resentment. many's the time I've thought i'd do ANYTHING for this child, and now here's my chance. I have joked with her over many years, whenever she accused me of some awful deed in our past I would retort with : 'yeah, well you stole my youth so I think we might be nearly even'. but who am I kidding? I have given this child my life. my entire, independent, adult life has been for and about this child. the others, too, of course, but ultimately her, because she has been with me every step of the way. she is my constant in a changing world. turning 40 this year I will have lived half of my life as a mother.
even with the other two, who need me more than their big sister ever has, I project into a future without her and I feel rudderless. she's the one who has kept me on the straight and narrow. the one who demanded a certain way of life, certain luxuries, when I would have turned my back on all of society and it's conventions.
........
the real problem is that I am stuck at home, my only company an acutely ill teenager. i'm having all of these thoughts in my head and there's nowhere for them to go. I cannot burden her with them. no one comes over and I only leave for the briefest of mad dashes into town for supplies, or for the school run. I am alone with my thoughts FAR TOO MUCH......
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