I’m still struggling with how to do the next rightest thing by my Mom. She’s been out of the hospital for a month. Progress is slow and on her terms. She shrieks and grouses when I attempt to move on to places she’s afraid of. The layers of neglect and chaos are so deep. When you speak with her, all of that is invisible. But I know.

Let’s get real. Holidays are coming. I am the holiday maker, tree decorator, present purchaser, and stocking overlord. That special event is exhausting enough.

And I’m about to do a soft relaunch of my blog. I feel slightly nauseous but happy.

But my house is clean and my toenails are painted. I’ll have my SI joint pain taken care of by Christmas and my hand carpal tunnel operations after that. I keep following the breadcrumbs to my wellness and self-care no matter what.

As women, we know if we don’t take care of it, it might not get taken care of. That includes our family and ourselves. And if I don’t get people to do it themselves and ask for help, then they won’t know how to take care of themselves without me. But that applies to my spawn only and not to people are mentally unwell.

All I can say is that I gather tremendous strength in knowing I have such a supportive community. I know I have given when it has been needed and feel so lucky that I am being gifted the same.

This too shall pass, I just wish it would go a little quicker.

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  1. Oh, Lordy, Shalagh. Your experiences with your mom brings back memories of my own mother. Sheโ€™s gone 35 years next month, but for most of my life, and especially the last 13 years of hers when she became legally blind, my experience was similar to yours. Aaarrrrrggggh! Just sayinโ€™. Sigh…

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