Dipping My Toes in the Stream of Consciousness

Well, I just got done tucking Child #1 in bed. (Is 12 too old to be "tucked in?") I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and then tried to figure out what it is I want to do w/ my final hour or two of the day. I picked up my knitting bag intending to knit & watch a recorded episode of "Good Eats." Instead, I sat down & saw 401 Ways to get Your Kids to Work at Home lying on my coffee table. I just received this book from Amazon.com earlier in the week, and I've yet to read it.

I decided that I would look & see if the author -- Bonnie Runyan McCullough -- had a blog. I Googled her and ran across the blog of a woman in Massachusetts.

I'm always surprised to run across people who share my point of view on things. I guess it's because I often feel like I don't fit in. There are a variety of reasons for this. I'll get to that later. My point is that I get so excited when I find someone who appears to think like I do, and so this dear woman has inspired me to finally do some writing.

I've been saying for such a very long time that I want to write a book. I have lots of thoughts and ideas rolling around in the back of my head. I feel myself getting closer to writing them down, but finding the time to do just that is where I falter. It's hard for me to get a chunk of time that will allow me to get into a the flow of writing. I guess I need to make some sacrifices if I'm going to do that. And that leads me to ....

... apparently a mental roadblock.

As soon as I tried to put into word what I'm feeling about the whole "sacrifice" thing, I lost my momentum.

{sigh}

I don't even know where to begin.

If you know me, you know that the past six years of our lives have been spent dealing with our son's cancer. No, not every single moment of those past six years, but yes ... every single moment. It's not always in the spotlight, but it's always there. For a few months at a time, while he was in remission, we could go about our lives like "normal" people do. But then the time would come for a follow-up MRI. Life would shift gears again. Personally, I have nightmares in preparation for MRIs. The most horrendous of those nightmares have come just before each of the two recurrences.

I hate to say this, and I certainly don't mean it the way I know it will sound, but it's almost easier now that he's back in treatment. He has cancer again. That possibility is no longer to be feared. It's here. We're dealing with it. He's doing well despite the up-and-down blood counts.

And, well, I guess that brings me back to the whole "sacrificial" point I was trying to make above. As I said, I guess I need to sacrifice some things in order to get into the writing mode. Sacrificing is becoming increasingly more difficult for me. I feel all sacrificed out.

I don't say this so that you will feel pity for me. I simply need to get to it for myself. I need to sort through all of this and figure out why I have been so paralyzed lately. I seem to have lost all ability to practice self discipline. I don't want to clean my house; I don't want to fix meals for anyone; I don't want to pay bills or open the mail. I ignore emails from good friends.

I want to go out and do things, but I can't. The Blood Counts Are Too Low. We must wait for The Blood Counts to come back up. We can't have friends over. We can't go shopping. Fresh fruits and vegetables are verboten for the DS, and so I feel a little guilty feeding them to the rest of the family.

DH tells me that he will need to travel for business in upcoming months, and all I can think is, "I'm stuck here." How selfish is that?

And you know what's really frustrating? When people make perfectly reasonable suggestions about how to deal with these "sacrifices," and I just can't take their advice. It must all seem so simple when you're on the outside looking in. I guess all of the mental and emotional exhaustion must cloud my judgment and keep me from behaving in a practical manner.

Over the past year -- before recurrence #2 -- I found myself struggling a great deal with planning and organizing and self-discipline in general. I have felt wholly inadequate. Now that we are in the throes of coping again, I am beginning to realize that I probably never fully accepted the impact of the trauma our family has been through. We've been so busy trying to be "normal."

And now, Those of You Who Know Me know a little more. I'm not always as strong as some of you think I am. I'm as strong as I need to be when necessary. What else can I do? I thank God for that strength, and I thank God for getting me a little closer to sorting all of this out. I've had a number of revelations over the past couple of months that I don't think I'll ever be able to put into words. I guess I'll just consider it my own personal Grand Canyon - you just can't stand in awe unless you've been there.