Today is both rainy (sleety?) and a Monday, so…I suppose it was already doomed. March has come in like a lion!
I’m not writing this in the desperate hope of finding someone who can offer solutions or help – this is a blog, not 911. I’m in a quiet moment between sessions, snd my knee and calf are screaming in pain due to having to take an innocuous but painful third trip today down stairs to let the dogs out. So, I’m allowing myself to feel my feelings and process my thoughts in writing. I’m putting it here to avoid it being seen as a dramatic cry for help on FB, which tends to annoy me.
My husband is on vacation this week, I have an injured leg with severe arthritis in the knee; i need a joint replacement, but I’m too young. We live in a two floor house; I’m usually upstairs and my husband brings stuff up to me. So I knew it was gonna be a rough week! And I wasn’t wrong, it has been.
I am realizing after three short days without my husband that without him and his generous compassion, I couldn’t live without help long term; I couldn’t live in this house going up and down these stairs. I couldn’t care for all of these animals, who bring me so much love and joy. Without a ranch style house, I don’t think I could even take care of myself properly. I can’t walk far, stairs hurt so badly, and the smallest activities take so much more energy than I have.
I think I’d be ok, or at least able to find some level of acceptance with this state of events if it was a temporary, “Oh, you’re injured. Here’s how we’ll fix it and the timeline to expect!”. Or, if this was “Oh sweetie, no…you’re disabled now. Here’s what you’ll need from here on out.” But thus far, nothing has been that clear cut; no one has said I’ll get true mobility back, and no one has validated my pain or inability to walk despite seeing me drag myself around, panting and wincing. No one has offered any easement in the expectations on me; there’s no allowance to do anything other than fruitlessly try to pretend I’m living a normal life, and that I’m not walking like a ogre in pain while everyone looks on, embarrassed. The lack of certainty and answers leaves me feeling frozen and alone.
I think understandably – as I’m only 45 – this realization and these feelings are a pretty bitter pill to swallow. I’m struggling right now. I’m “in my feelings” as my kids might have said, a hundred years ago. I’ve made my goal as a counselor to be there for people, so that they don’t have to feel alone without support as they go through life’s trials…because I felt alone, and I was scared going through mine. I wish there was someone like me for me, because I’m still feeling terribly alone.
A hard moment.