Fighting the Good Fight

I haven't had a decent night's sleep since Thursday and adrenaline has been flowing through my body to keep me awake, alert, and able to take care of others. Now I'm tired. And worried about how tired I feel because I'm battling my depression....again.

I first noticed something was up when on Friday afternoon I started to cry when I couldn't find my backpack for camping. On the drive up to Williams, all I could think about was how much work I need to do since it's the beginning of the school year and how disappointed people will be because I will inevitably fail to meet deadlines or something like that. Today I went to Target for a heating pad for George and ended up spending too much time and money there (actually, that's fairly normal). The bad thing is that all the shopping made me feel worse because now I have to put everything away.

George's being unable to walk, sit, stand, breathe, blink, etc. without pain is painful for me to watch. My husband is a stoic sort of fellow- the kind who fits stereotypical descriptions of strong, silent men who don't share, much less display, emotions freely. On Saturday night and most of yesterday, George cried everytime he had to move. It was better today, but something has gone wrong in the world if my husband has to depend on me as though he was my child. Not that I begrudge him anything that he needs. He is actually very thoughtful and polite about his requests, and I am happy to be helpful. It's just hard to be unable to do anything to stop his pain. It's heart-wrenching to comfort my son, who is "worried that Daddy will be hurt forever," when I myself am worried and upset.

I try to calm myself down by remembering that it would be upsetting to anyone to see someone with tears streaming down their face because of pain. I try to reason with myself about feeling overwhelmed and I can identify the negative thoughts in my head and know that my exhaustion is part of the reason they're there.

But I'm fighting back anger that despite taking my medicine religiously, and despite all my awareness of signs and triggers (of which George's state is a major one), I still have to feel this way. I'm angry (all over again) that I am susceptible to every sort of stress overload there is and that I can't handle as much as I think I should be able to manage. I'm angry that I feel burning tears waiting to slide down my cheeks at random moments. I'm hoping that my anger will subside soon. I'm fighting it, but I'm also very tired.