Sometimes you expect certain moments in life to trigger grief or anxiety. I like to think each individual knows themselves and their journeys well enough to foresee how some situations might bring up difficult feelings. But sometimes it is unexpected and it doesn’t matter how well you know yourself or your journey. Sometimes, you are simply blindsided. Continue reading “Deconstructing a Panic Attack”
Category: Just Me
“Clowns to the left of me.
Jokers to the right.
Here I am, stuck in the middle with you.”
This lyric right here is my theme for Valentine’s Day this year. When you are married with children, life resides on a scale of “they are so sweet when they’re sleeping” to “OK, how many kids did we leave the house with? Because now there is only one”. With three children, it is rare that someone isn’t in need of something and when you are being pulled in numerous directions it is grounding and comforting to have a person in the trenches with you. Someone who partakes in life beside you, however it comes. Love changes as we get older and, to me, it is our actions within the day-to-day that truly express love. And so, when Valentine’s Day comes around, I find that the recognition of one another in our relationship is usually short and laced with sarcasm because taking one day to ensure your partner knows they’re loved seems insufficient and forced. It’s probably the one day out of the year my husband and I don’t have expectations on being seen, important and cared for. Because married love isn’t about this one seemingly romantic day. It’s about the other 364 days of the year. Continue reading “This Is Valentine’s Day”
A lot of people seem think that three kids constitutes a big family. I suppose by 2018 standards it does (especially when mom and dad are just breaking into their thirties). I always wanted a large family and it isn’t a secret that I’m still trying to cope with the idea that I won’t have any more children. While some people end up with large families somewhat accidentally, others find their way there with purpose and intent. One of my main purposes in having multiple children was to give them the shared experiences of childhood. The large age gap between my older siblings and me meant that I grew up, essentially, as an only child. My mom and I were very close and my childhood was wonderful but I always wondered what it would have been like to venture through those early stages of life alongside a sibling. I didn’t want my children to have to carry their childhood memories alone but instead share them with someone. I never thought that some of those memories could be ones from which they need to heal. Continue reading “Their Childhood. My Purpose”
The following post is one that I wrote six months before my accident. As I read it back tonight it took on a very different meaning than what was originally intended. When I first wrote it I believed I was talking to myself 20 years or so in the future. Little did I know that, 6 months later, t -hese would be the moments and the memories that would drive my recovery and my fight to get home. A good “throwback Thursday” reminder to look for the special moments in the everyday. You never know when you might just long for ordinary. Continue reading “Give Me Ordinary”
It’s been awhile since I’ve written anything – my longest stretch of silence since I started this blog. I could say it was because the holidays were busy (because they were) or that my time and attention had been stretched thin (which they have) but both answers would just be excuses. The truth is, I haven’t written anything lately because I have become a bit lost inside of myself and the thought of putting a magnifying glass up to the inner-workings of my brain over the last few weeks sounded more like torture than comfort. Looking ahead to January brought me a lot of anxiety and my initial introductions to 2018 have been strained. It feels as though I’m meeting a friend-of-a-friend. It’s someone I should trust but I am unsure of their intentions. I had trust in 2017; it allowed me growth and left me and my family safe. 2018 is unknown and I am skeptical. Continue reading “New Year. New Challenges. New Goals. Same Old Disability”
I’ve always been afraid of the dark (I slept with a light on in my room until I got married). There is something about the middle of the night that swirls my anxiety like nothing else. Those hours where your corner of the world is dark and quiet. Where life exists but it is subtle and difficult to spot. At 2:00 in the afternoon, a passing car is easily ignored. But at 2:00 in the morning it evokes questions and skepticism. A problem can seem much less significant at 3 p.m. than at 3 a.m. when distractions are few and reflection overcomes. Before I had children, I very rarely saw the hours between midnight and 6 a.m. Three kids later, those overnight hours were much more familiar but were spent tending to the needs of little people. It left little time to contemplate much other than the task at hand and calculating how much sleep I could still potentially manage that night. But without the distraction of a child – and nobody to blame for my conscious state – those middle-of-the-night hours make me uneasy once again and the inability to sleep brings up more feelings than I can keep track of.
When the attempts you make to sleep are in vain, thoughts begin to take over. Thoughts that turn to fears or imagined stories of how my life could be different. Some nights I play my accident over and over in my head wondering how in the hell it all actually happened. And some nights I go too far to get back to sleep on my own. The tears well up and no matter how much I try to breathe and stay calm, they begin to fall. They fall silently, without pause or consideration of the lasting impact they will have on my night. I reach over for Ian because in these moments, feeling alone just amplifies everything. Even half-asleep, he comes closer.
There is an attempt to ask me what has happened while also knowing all too well what is going on. The tears on my pillow start to dry as they now fall onto his chest. He does nothing but hold me and breathe. I can hear he his heartbeat, steady and comforting. His breathing isn’t laboured or distressed like mine; it is even, calm and reassuring. I look a little beyond him and see that our daughter has crawled into our bed at some point and I get a quick reminder of what is good. I think of my boys, sound asleep down the hall and for the first time I feel like I can take a breath. The dark of this night becomes a bit less terrifying. There is good. We are safe in our little corner of the world. We will make it to tomorrow.
Perspective usually comes with the light of morning. There is so much beauty at both dawn and dusk. But with the sunrise I feel hopeful at the day’s youthful beauty and with the sunset I can’t help but feel trepidation of the dark that will set in and commence the death of another day. Will I sleep tonight? Will I immerse myself in those painful memories? Will I get lost in fears that come with those late hours where sleep is expected but out of reach? Even the imagined path is harder to see in the dark. I suppose I will just have to wait it out. I will know the answer when I am, once again, safely in the morning light.
“We’ve been sold the lie that disability is a Bad Thing.” – Stella Young
It never ceases to amaze me how one short phrase can evoke such a strong emotional reaction. When I read the above quote on my Instagram feed the other day I was overcome by a lot of feelings. But high on the list were disbelief, annoyance and anger. I don’t think that I am often speechless, however when I tried to explain what I was feeling to my husband, I came up blank. Over the next couple of days, the phrase wandered in and out of my thoughts: “We’ve been sold the lie that disability is a Bad Thing.” Really, a lie? Call me crazy but I don’t think it’s a great thing. I wouldn’t even say it’s a good thing. No, I would definitely say that disability is a bad thing; I would say that disability sucks! Continue reading “Disability Sucks! And I’m OK with That”
Christmas is gearing up around my house and I’m pretty excited about it. Honestly, I love everything about the holidays. From the anticipation to the decorating to the traditions to the music, it’s the time of year that I feel the most grounded. For six weeks or so I have a pretty good idea of what to expect out of life; it is predictable and it is comforting. So yes, I am one of those people who breaks out the Christmas songs and decorations in November because it allows me to breathe. I can think to myself “OK, we did it. We made it to another Christmas”. With all of the change that has happened, the holidays are still familiar and welcoming; a feeling of coming home again. And even though I still get so much joy out of this season, I can’t help but feel moments of loss as well for all of the reasons that my favourite time of year is now different. Continue reading “Finding Christmas in My Recalculated Life”
I like to be in control. I always have. It’s probably part of the reason why my mother-in-law and I took so long to forge a meaningful relationship. If there’s one thing you don’t want when you are a bit of a control freak mama, it’s a control freak daughter-in-law; a recipe for potential disaster. But somehow we make it work (love you Grammy). But beyond that, control has always grounded me and helped me to navigate through the fog of anxiety. Believing that I was consistently in control of my own situation allowed me to feel safer in a world that has continually left me trembling. I think it is part of the reason I hate flying so much – the lack of control. Then there were the aspects to control that I never took time to think about because they were – as I believed – non-negotiable; the control of my own body. To relinquish control of something can be challenging. But to have it taken from you is like having the ground disappear from underneath you – trust me, I know the feeling all too well. Continue reading “Relinquishing Control”
Travelling with your children is a very different experience from travelling without them just as travelling with a spinal cord injury is a very different experience from travelling without one. Travelling with both children and a spinal cord injury is the Mt. Everest of travel scenarios. As we prepare to head out on a family vacation, I thought I would give you the run-down on how this all works now that my spinal cord injury is part of the equation. After we get home I will share the good, the bad, and the (hopefully not) ugly parts of our actual travel experiences. Continue reading “Going to Disney with a Spinal Cord Injury – Part 1: the Planning and the Packing”