September 19th, 2019

Reflecting on past moments of crisis, and  how I navigated through them, it seems that I kept on doing the thing that I was doing.  I went to work.  I think, maybe when the emotional stuff is beyond what I am able to process, I shift it behind a veil where I can keep an eye on it while continuing with life as usual.

So today I worked and dove into very focused and detailed tasks, to keep my mind fully contained.  It helped me today, but now it’s night, and now I am finally alone with my thoughts.  Now I can let tears fall down my face as I begin to wrangle all of me into concentrated loving attention that I can send out in waves to the people I love most in this world, my family.

I’m startled by every text notification ding.  I’m afraid to look and I’m desperately hopeful to look.  I’m similarly alarmed by the sound of the phone ringing.  I realize that I must hold my breath and not release it until I know who’s at the other end and why they’re contacting me, because I find myself exhaling when the determination has been made, and after that it’s difficult to catch my breath.  I can’t get enough air.

We all feel so helpless.  There is nothing we can do besides love and hope.

He wants to live!  He sure got a lemon of a vehicle, and figuring out its quirks has taken such toll, but he’s tried so hard to figure it out and give it what it needs.  He’s doing his part!  He’s done everything the doctors have told him to do.  He wants to live.  Or he wanted to, before this.  I don’t know if he wants to now, because this…  …this one’s ravaged him hard.  Is he in there, pounding his fists and shouting at us, hey, I’m right here, don’t worry, I’m just looking for that danged short so that I can fix the circuit and get this machine back online.   I hope.

There is so much love!  A steady stream of friends have come to the hospital to see him and wish him well and give their love.  He is a fine, fine person.

My family is aching.  The arms of my heart are wrapped around them, holding them tight.

I just recognized another interesting thing about emotional crisis.  Exhaustion.  Feeling like I’ve only barely begun to process the emotions, yet nearly overcome with exhaustion, to the extent that I feel that I could collapse or pass out.

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 19th, 2019 at 10:50 PM and is filed under family, health, love, me, mental health, sorrow, thankfulness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

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