2004
Stress is a deadly captain holding the wheel of any vessel with Lupus in the cargo hold. Any shift in perception and inner peace can go overboard, letting loose the Kraken to wreak havoc on everyone close to the disease. I had gotten married in 1990, for the first and last
time. No relationship is perfect, and
certainly my marriage was filled with many happy memories and the blessings that a child brings. She was like a keel helping to keep me on course as the waves of life came in and out. The problem was simply that the tide of
despair pulls with an undertow that slowly had begun to wash away the joy in life. How to leave behind the
warped perceptions of a fear filled life? Was I afraid to die or simply afraid
to live?
My marriage had sprung leaks long before the day I realized that the holes were too big to fix even if I was capable
of doing the job alone in the fall of 2004. I sold my soul a nickel at a time to the pirate who had been keeping the
ship afloat for sixteen years. Is this why I did not notice my soul was a shadow lurking behind me like Peter
Pan’s, trying not to get reattached to the directionless woman being tossed about in the storm? My daughter was my joy. My life’s purpose
had always been to help her grow into a healthy woman both physically, spiritually, and
mentally. I was not teaching by example.
I am not physically, emotionally or spiritually well. I am showing her
how function in a completely dysfunctional relationship! I am killing myself with denial in the name of Lupus and showing her
how to dance with the devil too! Repeat the land of funny jammies. Repeat menu. Repeat nurses. Repeat beep beep beep the song of my constant companion
the IV pole dripping Solu-Medrol into my veins blending with the morphine-ativan cocktail
that keeps my soul inside of my skin.
There is plenty of time to think while trapped in a sterile hospital hoedown. Antiseptic ideas strip away the layers of pain, and I was left with
the causes and conditions of my situation. I have a dis-ease and for that I am not responsible. I am responsible for my willingness to accept reality. I am responsible for my actions that promote wellness as well as those actions that do not. I am the only person who can decide what relationships are not healthy and which ones are nurturing in my life.
The neon light began to flash on and off in a surreal display of
hidden personal truths. Reality under the covers. Crisp white linens covering up the self deception. I felt miserable.
Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. That was real, tangible. Waves of dark despair washed over me,
through me, into every cell of my being.
How can I teach her how to be happy when I am not happy myself? I am
teaching her how to stay stuck in a situation that leaves no hope, little love,
and a constant gnawing fear of the future . . . of the present! She is learning all right! I have become a toxic waste dump of
despair with hopelessness futility weighing down my soul. An anchor sinking the ship. Time to make a decision. I walked away from my shattered fairy tale
dream of a happy ending. Little did I know that the fantastic voyage lay ahead.
Time to write my own happy ending. . .
No comments:
Post a Comment