I don’t even know where to start. To say my life is in shambles and I can’t seem to pick up the pieces might be accurate.
Physically I don’t exactly know where the lupus flare ends and the cold/flu/infection starts. All I know is everything hurts to move and just being awake seems torturous. I’m experiencing a lot more swelling than I usually do (generally I feel stiff and sore in different parts of my body or all over when it’s worse, but very rarely do I actually get visually puffy at my joints). I’m really hoping that being sick on top of everything doesn’t mess with my blood work taken yesterday.
Really at this point the amount they’re taking from me I should be getting a cookie for my contribution. A pile of vials to split between 3 doctors (the 3rd whom I’ve never even met is apparently a consult for my neuropathic pain, hey if it means not having to go to yet another appointment…. fine by me). So far the only worry would be distinguishing between kidney inflammation and damage due to an unrelated infection or due to the lupus flare. I leave it in the hands of the hospital lab techs to figure out.
On top of everything physical going on there’s the mental and emotional turmoil that’s taken the place of what I could call ‘normal’ every day stress. Let’s just say its killer frustrating being upset and emotional about things going on and the damn brain fog is so bad that I can’t keep facts straight or remember details like i used to. I have the emotions piled up but I have no accurate data as to why I feel the way I do. Does that make sense?
I’m not much for humor at the moment, but that about sums up what I’m able to put to words when it comes to how I feel or why I feel it.
I wrote before about Mr. Mango and I and how our relationship has progressed. We’ve gotten through a lot of shit, we make a pretty awesome team. Except when we don’t…. and when we don’t it usually ends up blowing up eventually. That’s what happens when you put a procrastinator and a pressure cooker together.
Deep inside I know he still really want’s to show he cares, he want’s do get things worked out and he want’s to play an active roll with the kids and in our relationship, I just have a hard time seeing that the majority of the time (or in my opinion he doesn’t put in the effort to show it). I’ve been bottling things up double time lately it seems because he doesn’t want to deal with the NOW and I just don’t want to fight about wanting to nip things in the bud.
The problem with stuffing a pressure cooker too much and letting it stew too long? It eventually explodes. Now, I wish I was one of those people that could blow off steam, yell and scream like one of those housewives on 80’s sitcom T.V. and somehow after some clever retorts back and forth, fast forward and everything’s fine again, but reality doesn’t work that way. I’m not much for the big out there expressions of anger, I end up having private (hopefully), quiet moments of despair where it all bleeds out. All that steam that’s built up turns into a river of tears. I feel it all at once and it’s all consuming, gut wrenching and unstoppable until it’s finished.
After that, it all goes numb.
Yesterday I hit that moment. After a long day to the doctors, some rude remarks about parenting and not being a team, not understanding what the big deal is, just leave it “there’s no use” etc (procrastinator stuff) I had just had enough. I brought supper leftovers inside, placed them on the counter and fell to the floor in a fit of sobs.
My timing could not have been worse. The kids were all still up, Mr. Mango was just outside (and goodness knows the last thing I needed was some bullshit remark about emotional blackmail, PMS or was I taking my psych meds yet) and the hard kitchen floor was the last place I wanted to be stuck for the foreseeable future.
In walks Princess, my little savior. Whatever empathy and caring nature skipped Buddy, must have been put into her, I swear. She quietly came over and wrapped her little arms around my head. It only made me cry harder, I never wanted any of them to see me like that, but there was no way to stop it. I reached out and hugged her back. We sat there like that for what felt like eternity but what must have been around 15 minutes. That’s a long time for an almost 6 year old.
When I managed to collect myself enough to look up, she smiled and said “I love you Mommy, I hope you feel better soon, I know it’s so hard.”
While everything around me and inside me seems to be falling apart it was my little girl who managed to pick up the pieces enough to keep me going. Sure nothing is fixed at the moment, after that breakdown the numbness has set in and the day to day of the foreseeable future is rather unknown, but I’m still here and I’m still fighting to figure it all out.