More Time, Please.

I’ve been stable for 3 or 4 more months. I haven’t had much to say on this blog in that time. Instead, I’ve journaled, read several books, worked on my other blog, and bound myself more tightly to those closest to me. Mom said that this was the most stable she’d seen me since Oliver’s birth. 

I’ve also been focused on my son Oliver, who will start attending special education preschool on August 31. Getting to that point involved meetings and so much paperwork; it was like having a job again.

But last night, I felt a sadness that had no object. I was lethargic despite an irritable energy. And today, I began to tremble all over, physically visible only in my hands. Thoughts became difficult to catch.

These are small symptoms and may simply come from normal weariness and anxiety. My child will go to school for the first time. I’ll have to teach myself how to be alone, how to stay active and connected to what matters. 

How will I do that if I’m sick?

I want to read. Scribble. Write down others’ perfect words. See movies. Clean up. Cuddle. Smile involuntarily. 

I’m asking for more time. I want to experience enough peace and contentment that I can remember and reach for them when illness bites into my neck and shakes me hard. 

I’m not asking for a cure—I know it’s not possible, not yet. I’m just asking for more time.