With all those thoughts cluttering my mind, no wonder I would get depressed at times. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I tried to find the good in all of the pain. I know that’s not easy, but it beats feeling negative. I wanted someone to help me, to tell me I was doing the right thing and that these feelings were normal. Sometimes I felt like I was going mad and all I wanted to do was scream or break something...anything to relieve the tension I felt inside.
I cleaned, moved around our few belongings in the apartment. I wanted to change my situation in life. Cleaning helped, and so did baking. I think the key word was change...I wanted something to change. Somehow it was a small satisfaction to know that I still had control over some aspect of my life.
Control...maybe that’s why I got so frustrated! I didn’t have control over my life anymore, they did...Mom and Wayne and the ever-present doctors.
I like things organized and everything was unorganized. Instead, I had to organize my life around the needs of others. It was like having two babies that both needed your attention at the same time. I couldn’t get away for even a few minutes, just to be by myself. So I cherished every stolen moment. I wanted easy, but whoever said that life was easy?
They say that God never gives you more than you can handle...but He was pushing it!
It was had to fall asleep on those nights when Wayne slept very little. My mind would wrestle with all those thoughts until I would really fall asleep exhausted.
Does this pain ever go away? Sure, it passes just like other emotions. And it helps to channel those emotion. If you have a hobby retreat to it for a while. I found an outlet for all the frustration I was feeing...writing saved me.
Writing was like having my own private therapist, only I didn’t have to bare my soul to a stranger. I know that if I had all those feelings bottled up inside me, I would have cracked eventually. No one can take that much stress and stay sane.