I don't have a better title for this blog entry. I'll apologize in advance to those who come here looking for a light hearted view of things. They exist, honest...just not posted. That alone tells me that my view of things is/has become skewed, and needs to be adjusted.
Some days, its just so hard. Insomnia has struck again, leaving me vulnerable emotionally.
I spent most of last night sobbing. Pain was rampant, both physically and emotionally. I'm in my 30s, and all I can see stretching out before me is pain. Pain, pain, and more pain. The only 'break' I get is when I manage to sleep, but that's fleeting, broken, and can't be counted on. There's absolutely no rhyme or reason for sleep, or not sleeping. I do the same things, and never know if I'll sleep.
I'm not the woman, wife, or mother that I want to be. I fall so short on what I demand of myself. Everything in my life is dependant upon pain levels, and I loathe it. I want to be able to live, without the uncertainty that RSD brings. I want to turn back time and not ever have gone into that resident's room that grabbed me and started all of this. I wonder, in the darkest recesses of my heart what I did wrong. What I'm being punished for.
There have been times that I've considered leaving my family. Not suicide, just leaving. Clearing out so that a healthy, whole woman can fill the spot of wife and mother. But I don't. I don't because I believe that would damage my children more than having a lesser mother in their lives. I may not be whole and able, but I think that leaving would tell them that they weren't worth staying for. And not for the world would I ever want to wound my babies that way.
That's what I tell myself...But sometimes I wonder if its my selfishness talking. That I need them more than they need me. Because I do need them. They're my reasons why. Why I do anything, everything. Its for them that I put one foot in front of the other.
They don't see me cry. Nor does Wolf. He *knows* I hurt of course, as do the children...but none of them know how badly. I need to protect them as best I can. I believe that if they knew, it would scare them terribly to see Mommy fall apart.
So I do my crying in the wee hours of the morning, when insomnia reigns supreme, leaving me defenceless. I acknowledge the dark thoughts that I bury so deep. I suppose I wallow for a bit might be the best and most honest way to put it. Then I wipe my face, blow my nose, and face the coming day.
Its just so hard sometimes. Wondering what damage I might be doing to my babies. Wondering if I'm doing the right thing for them. Wondering how much is really for them, and how much is my selfishness shining through.
I pray that I'm doing what's right for them. I don't know what else I can do.
Countdown to my 41st Birthday
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