Some days and others

October 16, 2013 § Leave a comment

Listening to: Ritornare, Ludovico Einaudi

Some days are better than others.  Some hours are better than others.

There are some days, some hours when I get a smack in the face with how amazing and beautiful my life is.

Then there are some days, some hours when I just want to run away from it all; from all the frustration and anger, exhaustion and stress.

Some of these moments are more profound than others.  I particularly get sent reeling with Elizabeth in these random, obscure moments when the enormity of her disabilities overwhelms me.  I hate the way I feel towards her sometimes.  I hate myself for the way I think and feel – neither of which I can seem to control.  I sit or stand in my house, in my home sometimes just dazed; dazed by how I am supposed to do this, to make this work.  I have no answers, therefore no control and this terrifies me.  I don’t know how to “deal” with these things; I speak of them to no one, ever and I guess this wears me down over time.  It’s a heavy thing to carry by yourself.

In truth I don’t really carry it by myself, but everyone seems to have developed their own way of dealing with Elizabeth.  And for the most part we all seem to do it independently – or at least independent of each other.  No one talks about the frustration or the guilt or the sadness.  We all just survive from one day to the next – at least that’s how it feels for me most of the time.

I’ll be honest – I do imagine life without Elizabeth or Harry sometimes.  I try and imagine what my life would be like, if I would be happier, who I would be with and if I would ever find a man as loving as my husband Adam.  I doubt I would.

The swell of love I have in my heart when I think of Adam and our life together is matched only by the gripping fear I have in my gut when I think of my/our future with Elizabeth.  All I can do for now is block it out, push it from my mind and refuse to think about it, much like death.

I am unable to consider the possibilities.  I literally cannot come to terms with them, I cannot wrap my head about them.  So instead I close my eyes and think of something else, somewhere else.

I was buoyant this afternoon on the way home and when I got to sit in my husband’s arms.  Now I am melancholy.

Some days are better than others.  Some hours are better than others.

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