June 27, 2004 - I want my life back
I want a day uninterrupted by crises and events and worry about how things are, what will happen next, how is everything, what will happen next?
I want my life back the way it should be. I want to be able to work without having my energy sucked away so that I'm unable to get enough done; I can never get enough done, it is exhausting to be strong and the one relied upon and to know that this is my responsibility first and foremost, and that my ability to care for myself is compromised because this comes first, because I can always recover, I have time, I can get on with my life at any time, and there is always time for that later, and even if I have no money, lose my place to live, lose everything, I can work and get it back, so it's okay, it can all slide away while I spend time making sure he's okay, that he'll get through another day, that he has the support he needs. I operate in crisis mode too much of the time.
I want my life back.
I want to be able to do the things I think of doing, and get on with the things I've delayed doing, and move on to a semblance of independence that I know I'm capable of but haven't been able to achieve yet because my focus has been on maintenance, on standing still so we don't go backwards, on maintaining the status quo, as if we're on a cliff, and the wrong step could send us over the edge, and that'd be the end of it, the end of him, and the end of me because I'd failed.
It has nothing to do with me, I know that, but it's still what I do, I keep it going, I invest myself in this project, how can I not? What else is there to do? I won't not do it, I won't abandon him, there's no way I would do that, I wouldn't be able to live with that if I did, even if I wanted to, which I don't.
But I want my life back. I want to do all the things I've delayed doing, even those things that have been delayed too long, and I want him to be safe and secure and have a good life while doing what he should be doing, whatever that is, and I know he doesn't see it, doesn't realize his potential, just as I don't realize mine either, but I have more of an idea at least, I at least have, in the back of my mind, a picture of what should be, even if at times it seems too far off to be attainable.
I know it's there. And I know it's there for him too, but he doesn't see it most of the time, and it's exhausting.
I want my life back. But not at the expense of what he's achieved so far, nor at the expense of what he can achieve, at the independence and self-reliance he is capable of, that would be just as bad, to abandon him like that.
We do what we can. And perhaps my longing to have my life back is because of the progress we've made, because I am so much closer to getting what I want and how I want it -- and you know what? He wants his life back just as much. He should have his life back, all the pieces to comprise a whole, and it's not just him here, and it's not just me, but it's not us, because we're not us anymore. We both just want our lives back.
Mental illness sucks. That may not be profound, it may not be particularly well expressed, but there it is. It sucks. It sucks for those who have it and their friends and family.
All we want is our lives back, but for this month I'd be happy just being able to pay my bills. Next month? Next month I'll want more. I always do.
I want my life back the way it should be. I want to be able to work without having my energy sucked away so that I'm unable to get enough done; I can never get enough done, it is exhausting to be strong and the one relied upon and to know that this is my responsibility first and foremost, and that my ability to care for myself is compromised because this comes first, because I can always recover, I have time, I can get on with my life at any time, and there is always time for that later, and even if I have no money, lose my place to live, lose everything, I can work and get it back, so it's okay, it can all slide away while I spend time making sure he's okay, that he'll get through another day, that he has the support he needs. I operate in crisis mode too much of the time.
I want my life back.
I want to be able to do the things I think of doing, and get on with the things I've delayed doing, and move on to a semblance of independence that I know I'm capable of but haven't been able to achieve yet because my focus has been on maintenance, on standing still so we don't go backwards, on maintaining the status quo, as if we're on a cliff, and the wrong step could send us over the edge, and that'd be the end of it, the end of him, and the end of me because I'd failed.
It has nothing to do with me, I know that, but it's still what I do, I keep it going, I invest myself in this project, how can I not? What else is there to do? I won't not do it, I won't abandon him, there's no way I would do that, I wouldn't be able to live with that if I did, even if I wanted to, which I don't.
But I want my life back. I want to do all the things I've delayed doing, even those things that have been delayed too long, and I want him to be safe and secure and have a good life while doing what he should be doing, whatever that is, and I know he doesn't see it, doesn't realize his potential, just as I don't realize mine either, but I have more of an idea at least, I at least have, in the back of my mind, a picture of what should be, even if at times it seems too far off to be attainable.
I know it's there. And I know it's there for him too, but he doesn't see it most of the time, and it's exhausting.
I want my life back. But not at the expense of what he's achieved so far, nor at the expense of what he can achieve, at the independence and self-reliance he is capable of, that would be just as bad, to abandon him like that.
We do what we can. And perhaps my longing to have my life back is because of the progress we've made, because I am so much closer to getting what I want and how I want it -- and you know what? He wants his life back just as much. He should have his life back, all the pieces to comprise a whole, and it's not just him here, and it's not just me, but it's not us, because we're not us anymore. We both just want our lives back.
Mental illness sucks. That may not be profound, it may not be particularly well expressed, but there it is. It sucks. It sucks for those who have it and their friends and family.
All we want is our lives back, but for this month I'd be happy just being able to pay my bills. Next month? Next month I'll want more. I always do.
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