Its been a turbulent month. Really tough. The hot weather has taken an insane toll on kiddo. We have endured violence and sleepless nights. Our adventure to find our forever doggy friend came to an abrupt end. I’ve not been feeling it to be honest. I have felt vacant and low.
The hubby has been on a mission to help me find focus and joy during the hours that kiddo is in respite or school. I’ve been putting up a fight against it. Not sure why. Truth be told I think I have completely forgotten how to look after myself these past four and a half years. Every time hubby made a suggestion of how I could find some enjoyment in my free hours I either sighed or made up a reason why it just wouldn’t work. I haven’t told him recently, but thank god he was fighting for me. Because I wasn’t.
As a full time parent carer you simply have no time or energy to focus on anything rather than your “duties”. You lose yourself. You lose your soul. All so your child can flourish in this uncaring world. And I don’t regret one minute of that. But I’ve now entered a phase of my life where I have a few hours every week day (When I’m not in appointments or doing paperwork) where I can really focus on me. And I have absolutely no idea how to do it. In fact, I have found it totally distressing.
It could be a smidge of post traumatic stress. The fights I have endured, the distress my child has displayed. Maybe it’s that.
It could be years of exhaustion that I have stored up, and now they are rising to the surface and I don’t know how to channel it. Could be that.
It could be that in all the years of just doing whatever I need to to survive, I have forgotten how to function as a human being. I have forgotten that life is to be enjoyed, not just survived. Maybe it’s that?
It could be that I see my husband working away every day and I feel guilty because I should be doing that. He assures me i shouldn’t.
Or maybe, it’s that I have lost my hobbies and interests all to the fight for my son’s survival in this world. And I just don’t know who I am anymore.
Actually, I think it’s all of them.
Yesterday the hubby spent no less than four hours telling me it was perfectly acceptable to spend a small amount of money each month on a gym membership for me. Before kiddo was born exercise was my thing. My passion. But today it’s almost like i am afraid of it. It’s almost as though by going back there and finding my old self again, I have to admit just how harrowing these past few years have been. Don’t get me wrong, there have been incredible moments of joy and accomplishment. But they get drowned out by the inner scream and cry that haunts your brain as you fight for the basic needs of your disabled child.
I now realise I have to completely re program myself. I have to allow myself to enjoy life. I have to find that side of me I buried long ago when it became clear it had no place in my life anymore. Because it does now. It’s like jumping into a whole new career, a whole new education. And I’m terrified, because I don’t know how to live like that anymore.
But im gonna give it a damn good try. I’m off to sign up to the gym. Wish me luck…
Thanks for reading,