The changing dynamic...

There was a death in our family yesterday. For reasons I won't go into, this means my mother-in-law is going to move in with us.

Don't get me wrong, I love this woman. She has made me feel so welcome in her family. Even if I wasn't married to her son she would be someone I look up to. This whole situation though... Me being sick and out of work, struggling to pay our bills, Phil thinking of getting a second job, our marriage on the rocks... And now my mother-in-law is coming to live with us indefinitely.

The one thing I could always count on was the peace I feel when at home. It's so calm here, there's always this air of tranquility, Now the whole dynamic of our home - hell, our LIVES - is changing and I don't know what it's going to look like when the dust settles.

And the poor woman who passed away. I'm going to miss her. She was so kind to me. The first time I met her she made me feel right at home. She was so thrilled when she found out Phil and I were getting married and I would be joining their family permanently.

How am I doing? I don't know. There's so much work to be done and my body is too weak to do it alone. I am afraid I am going to feel obligated to play hostess when Phil's mom moves in, even though it will cost me spoons I can't afford to lose. (Spoon Theory, look it up.)  I told someone my world was turned upside down when I was diagnosed with the Arnold-Chiari Malformation. Now it's being turned inside out for good measure.

When I moved back to Spokane from Montana in 2007 I was at rock bottom. I used that opportunity to rebuild my life and more importantly my SELF from the ground up. I became the person I always wanted to be: courageous, successful, loving, kind and happy. My hard work paid off and I ended up working toward an amazing career, Phil went from being a dear friend to my boyfriend to my husband, we bought a home and built a little furry family... I was on top of the world. Then I got sick. Things started falling apart. I see rock bottom looming again and I don't know how to stop this downward spiral. I don't want all my hard work to go to waste. I don't want to bust my ass yet again, build up my life to the way I want it, and see it crumble to ruin yet again. I'm tired of fighting to be happy when it seems to come so easily to everyone around me. Life keeps pulling the rug out from under me and I don't know if I have the strength or desire to stand up again.

Like a ghost...

Days like these are the worst. Days when I can't get comfortable, and I wander from the bedroom to the living room to the office. Days where I'm not in enough pain to take extra medicine (and deal with the side effects they inevitably cause), but I'm uncomfortable enough to put aside my books, paintings and various craft projects that typically keep my mind busy. Instead, I wander, like a ghost, biting back bitter thoughts toward people who are out there living their lives fearlessly and happily. I'm the ghost of this house, a faded reflection of the woman who used to live here.

Oh, of course, there's that small voice everyone seems to have, crying out, "This isn't me!" The pain and fear smother her and I continue my circuit around the house: bedroom, living room, office. Bedroom, living room, office.

Bedroom, living room, office.

I didn't choose this limbo. I didn't choose this broken body. I didn't choose this story. Sometimes I wish I had the courage to choose an ending.

Bedroom, living room, office.

Sometimes I find myself gasping for air; a reminder that I'm still bound to this mortal coil. I'm not a ghost, no matter how faded and defeated I feel. I just can't find it in me, sometimes, to want to breathe. I'm tired of the mask I wear, the appearance of strength and happiness. Leave me alone, I want to tend this bitter garden, eat this bitter fruit, and watch my Self shrivel up into a bitter shell.