The ability to decompress after something traumatic takes place is a learned skill, at least for myself. Something that is less common now than it was then is well exemplified here– the panic, hyper, over-the-top stimulated and wired I would get from dealing with tough situations would take me days to shake out. Managing emotions and stress in these moments seemed impossible, but take heed. Everything– the awful included– has a way of normalizing.
September 27, 2015
I’m waking up with a bad back after a so-so sleep following mom having a rather complete (and sudden) inability to stand up while trying to help her to bed last night. I ended up with a pounding heart, drenched in sweat and almost unable to believe it was real, but eventually Mom got (shoveled clumsily) into bed comfortably enough, and I came out here to collapse and try to sort out just how real all that was and how to deal next time.
I woke up fairly frightened that she would be like that, and found her in her room, attempting to get the TV on– everything fine– and her all smiles. She spoke about things to do today, and I felt a wash of being able to deal again hit me for a good clean. Now, as I think about it, I’m glad of one thing. The way my mind works when such things happen is always tuned to “How to get this better” and not “Can I do this.” That’s a great feeling for me, because I didn’t spend this last year working on learning how to deal with all of these myriad of things to abandon mom now.
My brain thinks in terms of “we” when it comes to this stuff. That’s ultimately the only way. In a lot of ways, certainly not all ways but a lot, Mom can’t be there for me. But I am here for her. Just pay it back, right?
Her clean up nurse is here, she’s getting cleaned up and I explained the concerns to the nurse while they get ready for a start to the day. I’m going for a good bike ride, mostly slow and downhill, because I need to take advantage of the sun. If the rains don’t come later, I think tonight is a cook outside night.
Right now, I need some wind in my hair. And that’s the start of the day.