Let's Get Physical
It's been a full week since my hysterectomy, and I'm slowly getting better. I'm off the Percoset, and have started taking (very) short walks here in the neighborhood in order to start regaining my strength. Mostly I'm just bored in an aimless sort of way, which I suppose is to be expected. Returning to work is out of the question, though - I can't sit at my desk for longer than about an hour before my innards start to complain about gravity (that spiteful bitch). So there's progress, and for that I'm grateful. Especially since I have a friend who's been in various hospitals and rehabilitation centers since May, bless his heart. This is nothing.Sweet Emotion
I'm afraid the news concerning my emotional well-being and recovery is not nearly as positive. I've been trying to avoid the grief of my new reality by obsessing over the possibilities inherent in changing my own life. What if I change my career? My vocation? My schooling? My retirement plan? What if I start over in a BRAND NEW LIFE, dedicating myself to helping others and making a difference in the world?The simple, hard fact of the matter is that there wasn't anything particularly wrong with my old life. I had a career I (mostly) enjoyed, great kids, amazing friends, and a life partner who can only be described as awesome. My financial situation allowed me to be generous when I wished, and I (mostly) felt like I made a positive difference in the world.
The problem is that I don't currently want my old life if it means I have to live in it with the truth of my lost daughter in my heart. What the hell is the point of having a successful career in technology if I couldn't even save my own child from herself?
So I'm struggling with finding some meaning in my daily activities on an emotional level. Often it just doesn't seem like most things matter much, when I look at them through the lens of my dead child.*
Carefree Highway
So we're trying to sell my daughter's Mazda 6, and I've decided that selling a used car ranks right up there with buying a used car in the "crappy experiences" category. People don't arrive when they say they're going to, they assume I'm trying to cheat them, they keep trying to "trade" me for their gas-guzzling behemoths, etc., etc., ad naseum. Now I remember why I've given two of the last three young adult vehicles in this house to charity. But this one's not a hooptie, and I really think it would make some young person a good commuter car. So we'll struggle on, at least for a few more weeks.___________
*I'm going to go a bit preemptive here, and state that I don't really want reassurance of my work or my worth in the comment section. I suspect that people trying to reassure me on this score will not result in a positive response. Thanks.
10 comments:
((((HUG))))
Speaking of wishing to be able to save others, I wish I could save you from this pain. :(
1. I love you.
2. We have something called the Good News Garage that gives cars to people in need, and then gives the donor a special hefty tax rebate.
3. I love you.
The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff. I have found it helpful...Love you
What Michelle K. said. I've given a local one cars. I get a tax write off, the garage that repairs them trains mechanics, and somebody ends up with a reasonable free car.
Love you.
I am glad you are feeling better, really glad the surgery went well. I can not even begin to understand the emotions you are going through, I just want you to know that everyday I am sending you healing thoughts and saying thank you for having you in our lives. Is there a charity that you can donate the car too, one that Moe was passionate about that takes donations like that?
Love you.
Love and hugs, my dear Janiece. So pleased to read that you're feeling better physically. I wish i could do something to help you feel better emotionally, but I can't. Instead I send you all of my love and support.
*huge hugs*
I don't know what else to say except my heart goes out to you. I think about you every day, and everything you're going through.
I walked up -- and down -- four steps today. (grin)
Dr. Phil
Dr. Phil, I am so happy you're making progress. Truly.
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