Day 4: Emotional Exhaustion

Day 4? How can 4 days seem so long and so short at the same time? I no longer remember what life was like before my mom's diagnosis. And yet, I can't believe 4 days have already gone by.

I'm beat. Emotionally beat. I taught for the first time since the cancer was confirmed. It was harder than I imagined. It was a Newborn class and I bring up my own experiences occasionally and tonight, I mentioned my mom. And it was a story I've told countless times, but tonight when I said "my mom" I almost felt like I lost a little breath. As I was speaking, things were running through my head...things like, "Oh my gosh, my mom is dying." "How will I say these things when mom is gone?" It was just so odd how I could still talk, tell the story, and teach while my brain was somewhere completely different. I guess that's the benefit of having done this as long as I have.

I don't have to teach again until next Tuesday. That's very rare but could not have happened at a better time. I don't know how my brother is getting up and going to work every day. Learning a new job and holding it together. I stand in front of a class and I feel like everyone can see through me. I feel like it's so obvious I'm going through something big. I look at myself in the mirror and I look exhausted. And I don't care. I don't care that people must wonder why I look the way I do. I just don't care.

Right now, I don't care about much. I care about my kids. I'm still a damn good mom. They come first. I care about my family. All of us who are dealing with this stupid cancer. I care about my friends who have been so incredible. But I don't care about what's on the news. I don't care about what is happening to other people. And that's unusual for me. I am fascinated by people and their stories. And I'm one of those people that has always truly wanted an answer to the "how are you" question when I ask it. But right now, I just don't care.

And I notice I'm starting to get angry. Really angry. I don't handle little stuff well right now. My classroom was locked tonight and I couldn't get someone to open it. And I was REALLY worked up. I was sitting in the hall getting incredibly angry. I was angry over a locked door. But I suppose it wasn't really the door. That's not where the anger is coming from. But I don't know who to be mad at. I want to be mad at someone. I want to physically hit someone. I want to scream and yell at someone. I want someone to hear my anger.

This just isn't fair. She's not supposed to die yet. She deserved a good long old age to enjoy herself. She's too young. She's younger than any of my grandparents were when they died. I know 73 isn't "young", but just a couple of months ago, she was healthy (so we thought). This is just not fair and I'm really, really angry about it.

I see the whole world differently. It's truly like it's a different place. A place where I'm losing my mom. And I don't like it. I know I'm not the first person who has ever lost their mom, but man when you're going through it, somehow it feels that way.

I feel so damn lost and alone. I don't know how I feel alone when I have so much support. But it still feels so lonely in this place I'm in. My brother and I are going to get together and talk soon. We've never talked a lot. I love him. He's an awesome person to have as a brother. He's my baby brother, but we've never been those siblings who talk a lot to one another. But we are the only 2 people in the world who can understand what the other is going through right now. And we're going to sit down and talk. Maybe I'll feel just a little less alone after that. I wish this wasn't the reason we decided to sit down and talk though...

It is interesting how the human brain deals with things like this. I find it fascinating to see how I can hold it together some times and how other times turn me into a babbling mess.

Tomorrow mom meets with the Oncologist to discuss her treatment plans. Tomorrow things begin. I'm glad we're moving forward. But it does make it all very real. And there's a part of my brain that still wants to believe I'm going to wake up from this very bad dream sometime soon.

But it's not a nightmare...it's my life. Every day I wake up and it's the first thing I think. Heck, I wake up several times each night and it's the first thing I think.

I'm just so exhausted...and it's just the beginning. The beginning of what I hope will be a very long journey. I can handle the exhaustion. My mom is still here. I will push through it. I will keep putting one foot in front of the other. And I'll keep taking those steps right next to my mom for however long it takes. And I hope & pray that it's a really, really, really long time.