A Little Black and Blue Heart

I’ve not written for a while because I’ve been a little under the weather since December, and Richard can attest, I’ve not had a lot of words often to even speak.  Just what I needed to feel just a little bit more isolated from the rest of the world.  Ah, to just ‘be’ with suffering?  Egads, I don’t do that well.  I’m never quite sure just where to rest my mind: do I long for better days or try to accept this is the best it is going to be.

So I tend to not write on my darker days, heck, I’m lucky if I can even get out of bed.  I figure it’s a good day when I can do dishes and go outside and muck.  That’s definitely a different life than most folks I know.

More often than not Richard has been taking over my chores in addition to his own chores plus his work.  I don’t do being inactive well.  I still have a hearty sense I need to contribute to this world, no matter how small it gets.

Outside of physically not feeling well, there was a moment days ago where Richard said we should talk about what I would do if he wasn’t here (not leaving, just death).  I fell to pieces.  I tried not to, but the tears just came as the seemingly mighty floodgates failed and I quickly melted into a puddle.  The fear, the anxiety, of living in the survival mode all came to surface.  I SO don’t want to go back there!!!

He said he thought I’d do fine here, because people would help me out.  I sobbed and asked, “But what about when they get worn out?”  It’s been a sad truth for me to learn personally that people can help for a season (or promise to help, LOL!) but ongoing help is too much to ask.  I thought of how expensive it would be to hire help…no way I could maintain this place alone.

I was re-living what I’d been through and it was all far too painful, but the truth of the matter is, there needs to be some planning for the future.  I want to do better, I want to be independent, to not a burden more than anything.  It is a drain to be in my shoes and I hate the idea of pulling others under too.

After our short conversation/sob session, Richard went to sleep, I continued tearing up.  It was true, we do have to plan, as he said, while I’m still cognizant.  Yup, pretty dim future if I end up with Dementia/Alzheimer’s due to TBI.  This still brings tears to my eyes, so, on to the next heart ventilation:

The other thing that surprisingly caught my heart off guard was I chose to donate a couple of items to A Legacy of Legends auction earlier this month.  It was held in Los Vegas, and I knew I’d probably never get to go another horse clinic, let alone a huge gathering like this one so thought I’d send a couple items.  No big deal.  That’s what I thought…

At first, it felt GREAT to give something back to this type of horsemanship that has changed my life and makes me so happy!  But something shifted, maybe I had more dreams about horse clinics, I do not know.  Maybe it was getting to see photos from the event, I may never know.  At any rate, I cried.

There are waves of grief and loss that are all too much a part of this path.  I can do well if I put blinders on and try to ignore what I’m missing out on.  This is the horsemanship that makes my eyes light up and blissfully happy inside.  To miss these events is hard, really hard!  I miss it all so terribly…I cannot tell you how much I’ve missed going to clinics the last 10 years.  That alone is enough to make me cry!

I thought maybe it I tried harder I could be well enough to go, but that’s probably not a reality.  Heck, even when Richard and I just go to town to shop I am ALWAYS down and out with a headache and need to sleep for at least a day following.

And, my Dad’s 90th birthday is coming up, I was asked in a voice mail if we’d be there.  I haven’t had the courage to return the call.  I know there’s no way I could make it, if I could I would.  Travel this time of the year is sketchy anyway due to weather, maybe we can plan a trip for Father’s Day instead.  For now, I have to get appointments with my doctor to find out what else is going on with me besides typical TBI stuff.

I’m hoping that by letting these hurts out I can once again pick up the pieces, try to do the good where ever I can, and find some peace along the way.

Thanks for listening.

About Resilient Heart

TBI x3, that's me! If you had a Traumatic Brain Injury (or Injuries!) and knew you might not remember dates, events, people, etc., would you live each day differently? Would you give more, forgive more, heal more? I am. The statistics for me developing Dementia or Alzheimer's is a high possibility - one, because of the TBIs, and two - because I'm genetically predisposed. Come with me as this present moment is all we know we have... Wishing you all the best - today & always. Blessings, Love & Peace, RH
This entry was posted in brain fatigue, Disability, Family, Grief, Health, Lettiing Go, Sadness, TBI, Tears, Traumatic Brain Injury, Travel, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to A Little Black and Blue Heart

  1. The key, I have found, is to try hard and to trust God; He has been my bulwark, my never-failing grace. Even when I want to give up, He is there and lifts me enough to get me over that hump and into the next thing. I keep trying just a little bit more. We shall see.
    Both of us should live in the comfort that we are not alone.

  2. i’m sorry things have been such a struggle for you. xo

  3. Hang in there and be kind to yourself. You can only do what you can do. Be as involved with the horses as your condition allows … (Bear has been my port in a storm) … and rest when you need it. Your responsibility is to your own healing. You know I’m rootin’ fer ya … 😉

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