My days vary greatly. You know, there are days when our symptoms can be managed without much effort and days when the gates of hell seem to have swung open and we have been beset with symptoms that aren’t even mentioned in the DSM.
Help, I have “context sensitivity” and I can’t get up!”
I’m having one of those days. I usually post every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning. This is Monday’s post. I’m writing it at 11:00 PM Monday night. I’ve missed a post once previously this year and posted it the next day. I was out of town.
What planet is this
Today’s excuse is that I’m in a different place, maybe a different planet, and it doesn’t feel like a good one.
In 2007 I lost my mother to lung cancer. I’ve felt that loss every day since. I wasn’t a momma’s boy, but she and I were friends. We shared a sense of humour and a way of thinking … and some life style characteristics you may recognize. We both started ten projects for every one we finished. We both had piles of things scattered around our homes, piles with only the vaguest sense of consistency to their content. We both loved music and art and especially literature. We both were quick to see through people who were less than honest but both of us loved honest and fun people instantly. We both saw solutions to problems, solutions that were considered “outside the box.” Now these things are mine alone.
Last week, Japan suffered greatly in the wake of a natural disaster of colossal proportions. My mother had friends there. It made me think of how many people’s lives she touched.
As if this wasn’t enough …
Here at home, a friend contacted me. A relative of hers had nearly lost a battle with mental health. Late last week another friend told me that a friend of hers was out of town attending a family member who required surgery. Survival, apparently, was far from guaranteed. My friend, sensitive and caring, was feeling for her compatriot.
The final blow (I hope)
On the weekend, this same friend got word that a member of her own family was not well. It was expected , but that never matters. Expecting bad news is little more than knowing how much you hope the message never comes.
In my own way I’ve been praying for my friend and her family, praying fervently. I’ve been praying that, whatever happens, peace is with them all.
I’m hoping for a little peace myself. Today I took my meds, but I swear they did me no good. I’ve been scattered all day long. It’s like I’ve gone back to a time when a day could slip away from me early in the morning and I’d never get a hold of it again. I have been of no use to myself or anyone else today, and I couldn’t figure out why.
My friend’s weekend vigil has, without my realizing it ’til tonight, taken me back to my mother’s bedside. The last days of her life were a wild ride. The last private conversation she and I had has been playing through my mind, over and over, all day long. She told me that everything would be okay. I said in some ways nothing would ever be okay again, and she said “I know.”
So I spent my day listening to my mother, my mother who has been gone for three and a half years. It has ruined my days productivity, I’ve accomplished nothing. It’s been a day like many days before when ADHD ran my life without my knowing it. But … I spent my day listening to my mother, and I realize – that’s okay.
