*Am I missing something?*
Yeah. It’s Thursday. I’m off tomorrow and I cannot wait for this 8 hours to be over with. I don’t even think I’m mentally attached to my body anymore, it’s so … uncomfortable. I wish there was a way to just leave it behind for a few hours and go elsewhere but even in my dreams, I’m in pain. My brain has a favourite game and it’s called “torture Grainne in all ways possible”…or maybe that’s God having a swing at me. I have no idea. One thing is for sure…if we pay for our bad behaviours in future lives, I must have been Hitler in a past one. It’s getting ridiculous again.
There have been bad times. For instance, when Colt was born, screaming and miserable, D was working two hours away and was gone 15 hours at a time. It was hard, to say the least. I have vivid memories of putting Colt into his crib after the 10th consecutive hour of endless screaming (not ‘crying’ mind you, actually screaming) and going outside with a cigarette and pacing mad circles around my back yard while bawling, hyperventilation and talking to my foster-mother on the phone while she was at work. She never came to help, but she did listen for the first few months. Anyway…that was life and, one night, while D was driving home, exhausted, he lost control of his vehicle and flew off the road (highway/interstate) jumped a drainage ditch and plowed a few hundred feet into a farmer’s field. It was completely unlit so he didn’t see the huge metal posts that held sun catching solar panels. He drove directly between two of them and the next day when we went to get the truck we realized exactly how lucky he was to have survived. I shit you not, there was maybe two inches to spare between the size of his truck and the width of the poles. (Thank you, whoever was watching over him that night).
Of course, he lost his job and I was on 60% of my salary on maternity leave for a year. Times were really, really hard and we struggled. The remaining car busted shortly thereafter and we were stuck with no employment, no vehicle which is necessary for D’s job and a really miserable little baby who no one seem to care about but us.
That said. In those times, there were barriers that were our fault that kept us back. D had several speeding tickets on his record making him uninsurable by the companies he applied to work for. I was suffering from PTSD for the first time in my life and didn’t get help right away making it near impossible to go back to my job early. Those things really held us back and when we cleared those things up, the rest fell into place.
This time though, I’m not sure what the future will hold. My work has obviously suffered, thanks to the pain, depression, PTSD super-flare-up and merry-go-round of meds I’ve been on for the last 6 years. The depression and PTSD is fairly well controlled after years of therapy but this pain is something I cannot work on. I cannot fix this…can only change how I cope. I’m trying my best there but look where it’s got me? Here. How will this not affect my future if it is never going to change? (Or, only change in worse ways?) I’m worried guys. This time I’m really worried. I’m creeping up on 40 and I have no retirement savings, no house, no education fund for my son…no savings for him either. That’s the one that hits me so hard. If I do nothing else in this life, I must, at least, provide for him. He didn’t ask to come into this world disabled and I’ll be damned if he’s going to suffer one moment more than he absolutely has to, whether I’m here or not. (Meaning when my body finally craps out on me…not talking about ending my life. I would never do that to Colt. I couldn’t.)
Last night D came and sat beside me and put his arm around me. Offered to rub my shoulders and neck for me but the nerve pain was so great I couldn’t stand the pain of him touching me. (“massage” in this case is a deep tissue, painful thing that releases the muscles some but it doesn’t feel nice. It hurts like hell). He told me to find anything at work, no matter how crappy the job is or how little the pay. He said he can see my light dimming…this office place is sucking the life from me now. I feel so humiliated and condescended to … the director has people auditing my fucking work to be sure it’s done right. How rude is that? How very unnecessary. Anyway, I tried to answer him but ended up just tearing over and couldn’t. I’m afraid. If I fall into a bad job it will be the end of me. I can’t do that and the pain all at once…especially considering the pay cut. Less money to get fucked over worse. Great. That sounds about like my life right there.
There seems to be no end in sight. I’m trying to … what? Fake it? Not even really. I’m just sitting here, feeling like crap, hurting every time I breathe or move (or sit still, it doesn’t seem to matter today). My stomach is very unhappy because of all the extra meds and I can’t eat without paying for it. I still haven’t lost a pound though and am at least 20 lbs bigger than I should be. That’s just not going to go away either, I’ve realized. So this is my life, I guess. Work is a measure of torture and triggers about every PTSD reflex I have, home is really just a place to sleep and I’m missing out on everything that’s good about the world. Struggling to find a new job that will at least allow me to keep getting my medications that allow me to barely function. The thought that I can’t get out of my head is:
“This, is what I fought so hard for? THIS? This shitty life with nothing but trials and struggles?” Thank the world that Colt is part of my life. Without him, I really just can’t see the point anymore. xx
Job boards ahoy. I applied for another new posting today. It’s a 12 hour shift one with weekend work and it’s a giant pay cut but it’s something, its full time and I’m going for it. Anything for a change. Any change will do.
Thanks for being here guys. I’ve been getting such lovely comments from folks I didn’t even know read my blog. It’s really a wonderful thing, having support and love around you when things look so bleak. I am thankful for every one of you who help hold me up. Don’t think otherwise for one second. xx