Sunday, 26 June 2011

How

D'oh! by foundimagination
Ok, I have no idea how to do this.

I've been out of town for ten days and it wasn't a good ten days. It was a constant state of high stress and anxiety and, quite frankly, I think I've spent the last ten days in shock.

My body certainly thought so.

I remember when C-Dawg and I were in our car accident one of the things I said to my doctor was that the floor was moving. Like, am I on a boat? moving. And that lasted for a week. She asked me if I'd bumped my head but I hadn't and I never felt that kind of up and down flowy dizziness again. Until this week, so I'm guessing it's some kind of stress/shock response.

But anyway, I'm home and have been home for a couple of days and the ground's stopped waving and I slept last night without sleep meds and that's good.

But I don't know how to get back to normal.

I don't know how to decompress from all this. I changed. This changed me and everything here is the same and lives have gone on and I don't know how to integrate back in.

I hung out with C-Dawg Saturday which was good but it's all very surreal and I'm feeling panicked about having to go back in to work and all the.... normal that I'm supposed to just know how to deal with.

I'm sure time will help; I've only been back a couple of days and I'm sure as things stop being scary, I'll stop jumping at noises at night.

My Dad's surgery went well, but there are post-surgical complications that aren't letting me stop worrying. My Dad's not as young as he might be and I worry. Worry, worry, worry.

Time. Time heals all wounds, right? Including the physical ones.

But let me tell you, I wouldn't wish this experience on anyone. Not the surgery or the being a loved one of someone going through the surgery. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

A dear friend of mine's husband went through open heart surgery about a year ago and I find myself wishing I'd known then what I know now so I could have helped her more; supported her more because I didn't know.

We've talked about how you can only know what this experience is like if you've been through it and I am so endlessly grateful that she's been through it and can talk me through it all.

I just wish I'd known and could have helped her through what she must have gone through. And with an infant to care for at the same time no less.

I keep wanting to tell you that my Dad's ok, but he's not. He's in pain and discomfort and things aren't going smoothly, but he's alive and they say it's all a process and he just has to be patient and gentle with himself.

I should probably apply the same thoughts to myself.

But on the flip side he's here and still...alive. Some aren't so lucky. We are. . .

I came through this; we all came through this. My Mom has been amazing, and we were amazing together and who knew you could grow closer over such horror and fear?

We laughed, and those moments filled me with joy. Knowing I come from two parents who can laugh, happily, at the little things when all else is feeling dark shows me how strong we all are. I'll tell you about the moment my soul lit up when my Dad, in the ICU, heavily sedated and hours out of his second surgery made a joke. A joke. Such a relief to know he was still there.

I wouldn't wish this on anyone, but if you have to go through an experience like this; travelling out of town for a parent's medical situation? Take your teddy bear.

Take your teddy bear and whatever else you need to give you comfort.

I ended up scrunching up my bathrobe and holding it for the first few nights and wishing I'd brought my teddy bear.

So, ok. I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore except to say that I'm home but I'm not really "here" if you know what I mean and that I hope whatever decompressing has to happen happens and well, yeah.

Hi, my name's Victoria and I don't know how to be right now.

7 Comments:

Anonymous Jonathan said...

Do you have to play a part? Maybe this is some kind of turning point. The discovery of "you".

I'm just writing this tosh because I don't know how to reply, but feel I should write something.

Wish I lived closer, or knew you sometimes. Would take you for a coffee, and a walk.

Monday, June 27, 2011 3:28:00 am  
Anonymous Dominic said...

I don't have a teddy bear, but I do have a kitten, who's quite a good substitute.

She purrs and everything.

Monday, June 27, 2011 4:35:00 am  
Blogger Kas said...

I understand. More than you know.

~Kas

Monday, June 27, 2011 5:56:00 am  
Blogger Kirsty Penn said...

I know what you mean Victoria, there are times, most of the time when I feel the same way.

Monday, June 27, 2011 7:15:00 am  
Blogger Just Sayin... said...

It's okay not to make any sense right now.

The decompression takes time I hate to say.. weeks at the minimum. I know that's not what you want to hear.

Many of us here know what you're going through. Know that you have much support, love and understanding from the blog-o-sphere family.

Teddy Bears are essential for sure!

Hugs xo

Monday, June 27, 2011 7:29:00 am  
Anonymous kandijay said...

*Hugs*

Monday, June 27, 2011 11:36:00 am  
Blogger Victoria said...

Thanks guys.

Monday, June 27, 2011 12:00:00 pm  

Post a Comment

<< Home

Please don't steal stuff from here, it's not nice. But leave a comment, why don't cha? And drink more water. It's good for you.

P.S. If you think you know me? You probably don't. If you're sure you know me? Pretend you don't. I'll never admit I know what you're talking about anyway.

P.P.S. All this stuff is copyright from then til now (Like, 2006-2017 and then some.) Kay? Kay.