Semblance of Normalcy

I got online to pay a phone bill and now I’m sitting here with my coffee, letting my dirty dishes sit for a while longer.  Do we see how easily distracted I am?  I have almost no time to myself of late but it’s alright because I’m supposed to be getting on with my life, trying to find or create a new one with my disabilities that I am still not used to.  I have been going to therapy for about 2 weeks now and I have learned a lot about myself in this time.  I’m finally pushing myself and I’m not sure if it makes me weak to need someone there with me or if it makes me stronger to seek out this help.  How does one gauge something like that?  I just know I can’t keep asking for Kasper’s help.  I also know I can’t keep letting him baby me. This means I have to be strong and tell him to back off.  I’m afraid what it will mean when I’m no longer in therapy and the excusing start rolling in again.  I know myself too well to know that I cannot do this on my own and I know Kasper enough to know that he is not capable of helping me the way he thinks he is.  I can’t take the sighs of his frustration, the rolling of the eyes or the way he talks to me in a tone that makes me feel like some leech on his time.  The whole point of him not working these last two years has been so that he can help me get better, help me work out, help me exercise, help me learn to live my life with my “new” body but he has done so little to help and I have not, in these two years, been able to tell him how much he has hindered my “healing.”  I am almost 3 years post-stroke, I should be past the healing aspect of it.  I shouldn’t be healed, my bleed was pretty serious, but I shouldn’t feel like I missed my ‘healing’ stage so entirely.
I’m a nuisance to him, I  can feel it.  I want to be independent again.  I miss the days when everything was in my control.  I miss working and being a ‘normal’ wife and mother.  I miss ignoring the news and the rest of the world.  I miss being uninformed and too busy being selfish to notice all the wrong around me.  I miss having options.  I feel so stuck.
  But going to therapy has helped me in so many ways I cannot even express.  I am filled with a confidence I have never felt before!  This is so unlike me in every form I have known myself to be in that I am amazed at every moment of reflection.  I’m unafraid at the store…if I go straight from therapy.  I am only filled with anxiety the moment I first enter the hall leading to the main gym at therapy.  I see the many (many) people in the gym and a wave of cool fear touches me before I am ready to find a mat, do some stretches and then make my way to one machine or another.  I am talking with strangers with only a mildly shaky voice.  I am having full conversations with people I barely know.  I am sanguine about the prospects of any type of improvement in my left body.  Already, I am walking farther without complete exhaustion.  I exited my house with both my children without my cane and I walked in the bumpy grass with my shoes and brace on but not my cane.  I hate my AFO, it is bulky and too wide for my skinny leg now. It is uncomfortable and makes me feel uneven.  But that day in the grass, albeit I was saddened by the realization that I am unable to partake in the outside activities my husband and Skas could, I was overjoyed by the simple fact that I was out there without fear holding me to a chair beneath a tree.  It was amazing and no one can possibly understand how much such a small thing can make me so happy.
The other day I was home with Boonshka for 5 hours by myself.  I had to convince Kasper how much I needed this test.  He had a doctor’s appointment across town that ended in a long wait at the clinic for a bunch of prescriptions he wasn’t expecting.  We thought it would be 3 hours at the very most but no, it was 5 and I handled my baby boy, who is really not a baby anymore, all alone.  I felt like a mom again. I made him breakfast and lunch, we played, I got him dressed, we played, I did house chores like dishes and laundry and vacuuming.  I normally do these things but usually a little here, a little there and I’m never also alone with a 2-year-old at the same time. I really felt like a large part of me had begun its return.  I can only thank therapy for all of this and I know to many it would seem so silly to say it is all due to a mere two weeks of therapy but I really believe it is.  Like I said, there is this sense of confidence wrapping around me like a safe blanket and I havent felt this until I started going to therapy.  I feel like there is a chance for me and it is no longer buried beneath the rubble left behind by my exploding stroke.  I feel like I am seeing more than a dulled corner of its plate; like I am on my way to being blinded by its denudation.
But, as a person once brought deeper than to her knees by reality, disappointment, shock  and tragedy, I am to keep this hope here on this blog and deep in my chest where it can’t grow into anything more than a weed I am willing to pull in a moments notice.  I can’t let it bloom only to be set aflame by some shit-face gardener from the company of LIFE. I have to keep it close and my pursuit of progress strong.  This is good, this is all good.  I will get ‘normal’ again.  It will happen…to some degree.

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