When I'm spiraling out of control, I need to have some sort of grasp on what to do. I need a plan.. like an exit strategy. Right now, I'm just waiting. We don't know where (or how) I'll have to deliver, we don't know how long Henry will stay with us, we just don't know anything right now. And it's driving me to distraction. I need to have a path to walk down - I can't stand just stumble along. It feels like that - if I'm stumbling, I'll fall. If I fall, I may not get back up. If I have a plan, a path to stick to, then I'm more confident and able to keep it all together.
The next eighteen weeks are going to be so bittersweet.
When a friend of mine died (well, actually, I fancied myself in love with him.. but that's a seventeen year old for you) in my junior year of high school, I lost it. I became someone I didn't recognize. It took me close to seven years to come back to myself. I started smoking, drinking, taking risks. I skipped class - all the time. I drove recklessly. My friends didn't know how to relate to me, so I fell in with people who just didn't care. People who nurtured my depression. I did everything I could to dull the numbness. I met my husband five years after Rob died - and he anchored me, brought me back, showed me what love really is. He's still my anchor, and my heart. I'm terrified that I'm going to get swept away again after Henry's gone. I've finally gone back to college, gotten my life on track.
That's why I'm thinking of enrolling in an intensive summer class. So, when I'm unable to cope, I can at least throw myself into school. Last time I didn't - and I very nearly didn't graduate. Maybe it's a bad idea.
No comments:
Post a Comment