DESPAIR.....AM I REALLY WORTHLESS?

Written once, now posted twice.
I originally wrote this post
in October of 2010 and posted it on "page 2" of my blog
which is very rarely seen by my readers.
This evening I received an email from a reader 
that read this post just yesterday and left me her feelings.
God spoke to me, I could hear him, as he urged me
 to finally post Despair on Page 1.

My reader's comments and my feelings after I re-read this post
tonight are what decided it for me. 
I could have written most of the original post
today. It is the same story, four years later.
I'm still fighting the good fight
and tripping over the obstacles, deep holes, 
relationships, valleys so deep the sun never shines,
 and even more chronic diseases to
add to my already overflowing list of "adventures"............
I'm going to re-post now, but am going to cut away the 
parts of the original post (which you can find on Page 2 -
look on the right hand side of my blog to find Page 2), 
that don't apply to today's story.....And so I begin........

I am so tired.

I am so tired of feeling tired.

When I think about how vibrant and active I was before my health started

 it's slide down the slippery, muddy hill of 'bad health', sometimes I cry. 

Not always. 

Most of the time I'm okay with where ever I am in life 

because of my unfaltering faith in the Lord

and my knowledge that it could always be worse.

But, let's face it, we all, all believers, doubt Him at some time. 

I'm very blessed and in knowing that I am able to keep my eyes on the Lord.

I've been through some horrible things 

and I've never lost sight of the Lord.

I would never falter.

Most days.

 ............I had a day three weeks ago where I felt despair.

"It's a funny thing when despair gets to you. 

It doesn't even feel like despair.

You don't think to yourself,

Oh, I have no hope.

Oh, I give up.

Oh, there's nothing I can do.

That's just every day complaining.

That's just feeling sorry for yourself.

Real despair is different.

It creeps up on you in disguise.

It comes as a kind of sleepiness,

a kind of heavy sadness that weighs you down.

It makes you lazy."

....."I didn't say to myself:

Don't give up.

I didn't say:

.....Never give in.

I didn't really say anything to myself.....

I was just too tired......"

............A weird and terrible thought began to work its way into my mind."

You're worthless.

You are just a sick, lazy woman

who isn't any good for any one.

The only reason anyone loves you

is because you're sick.
You're a DUTY, a PAIN.

You are such a BURDEN.

Your life is a joke.

"The thought was kind of like a whisper,

as if someone invisible were crouching next to me with his lips to my ear,

whispering very low.

The whisper was so low I didn't really even hear the words at first.

Slowly, they just sort of worked their way into my consciousness

until I was aware of them."

............"I rolled up into a sitting position.

I held my head in my hands and ...cried.

It was then that the despair rose up inside me with its true face.

That laziness,

that heavy sadness,

that sleepy passivity,

...the hopelessness that had crept up on me.

Now it was here in full force -

a horrible feeling,

a twisting, hollow anguish of despair."

I clasped my hands in front of my mouth.

"I wanted to pray.

I tried.

But I couldn't.

I couldn't even do that.

I was too afraid; that accusing whisper continued

to speak to me.

...I was afraid because I thought that

I might deserve  everything 

that was happening to me.

I was afraid to pray,

but I had to do something

and that was all I could think of.

I pressed my clasped hands hard against my mouth.

I bit into them.

I forced the words into my mind.

Please God.

Help me.

I'm beaten.

I admit it.

I'm lost.

I've got nothing left.

Please.

Help."

When I thought about 

what had happened.

I thought about it for a very long time.

Disecting it in an effort to understand.

And you know what?

"That sleepy sadness I had felt -

that passivity and despair -

they were gone suddenly."

I remember how I had prayed earlier.

How I'd thought there'd been no answer.

I was wrong.

I understood now.

It can be crazy hard.

To keep your faith,

to keep going.

It can be harder than I ever would have imagined.

Sometimes things happen to you, 

really bad things that aren't fair,

things that make you feel so terrible ...about yourself.

Sometimes you feel like there's no one to turn to,

and you're all alone and so scared you

can hardly move and so tired you just want to

curl up in a ball and go to sleep forever."

...I think in some way I had been training for this time my whole life.

I'd been training every day, even in the simple things.

I trained to keep my mind sharp when I was in school.

I trained to keep my spirit strong by going to church,

or when I prayed by myself, 

it was a kind of training:

I was training to remember that I was not alone.

I was never alone."

God is always there for me,

especially during times of despair.

And always when Satan is sitting on my shoulder

whispering lies into my ear.

Somehow I had gotten off track.

And I think part of my problem is the way

I isolate myself from the world.

Oh, I've got friends, but only a couple of close ones

that are physically near.

And I'm beginning to question why I keep it that way.

I have so many dear blogger friends

AND FAMILY, my sister, Joan, especially,

and my cousin, Melinda,

and I know that I could call either one of them

or the ones physically near,

if I needed to talk

or to be affirmed, but I would never do that.

I only tell J & M my deepest thoughts and feelings

though I have rarely ever called Joan when in the depths of despair.

Once? Twice??

And it has taken me YEARS to get to this point. Years of

suffering alone, of being afraid alone, before I would even tell them, 

or Annette, that I had a doctor's appointment. 

And I started doing that ONLY because one

of them verbally shook me by the shoulders!

I kept things to myself because I have always been

 fully aware that every one is fighting some kind of battle 

so I have wanted to keep my own struggles to myself.

It could always be worse is my mantra that I live by still.

The most important thing that I had lost sight of is that

I've got God and He is with me at all times.

It was scary when I lost sight of that.

I lifted my head to the heavens

and it brought me back to where I always am.

Well, except I do allow myself what I call

"moments".

Like after a doctor's visit

or yet another referral to a specialist.

Moments.

We're all allowed them.

Just don't make a habit out of them.

"Keep your eyes on the prize", as my youngest has always said.

And don't listen to Satan.

He lies.

*****10/2010: I have written this post on my side bar for one reason.

It's because I've really written it for me.

I doubt anyone will read it and that's okay.

I wanted a 'journal entry' about what I went through this week.

AND praise be to God!

1/2015: If you did find this post, thank you for taking the time to read it.

If you would like to leave a comment for me, please do.

I would love to know that you read it.

I hope it made sense to you as I did some creative cutting and pasting!

It takes a lot of guts to post this. I have NEVER let you see me so clearly; never

allowed you to look so deeply into my soul. This isn't me but I'm really tired of being 

alone in my own little corner in my own little room. 

(*that's from some show. Cinderella, I think)

To God be the glory!!,

                Jan

photos from Google photos and have no copyright on them to my knowledge unless indicated differently on the photo.

text in qoutes is from the book I'm reading and these passages were what I read just last night.

i'm reading The Last Thing I Remember by Andrew Klavan.

and I know without a doubt that God put this book in my hands.

I TOLD FRANK I HAD FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT

The Tank and I were laying in bed the other night talking

about this and that.

One of the things I shared with him was that I had

 finally figured out Oprah's question that hadn't been

  weighing on my mind though I know

 she'd be so proud to know that I had finally figured it out.

I'm a stress eater.

But, I get ahead of myself...

Y'all know that mom moved to the ranch in the middle

of January this year for me to take care of her.

She moved here from a memory center

in Portage, Michigan, where she was residing because

she had onset vascular dementia.

So, we make it to the ranch a couple of weeks before

this............

drove up.

Oh, heavens, that was one big moving van. 

Before I became concerned as to how much room mom's

things were taking up inside the van, I derived a great

sense of satisfaction knowing that whomever was

driving by the ranch as this monster drove up the lane,

would be wondering why we were moving, where we

were moving, had we run out of money? goats?

Center Point is like so many other small towns in that respect.

The sight of this van driving up the lane would give

the old men that drink coffee at the local mini mart

great fodder. Still makes me smile when I think about it.

Here are some shots of mom's things.

Not all of them be any stretch, but, enough that you can

get an idea of what those men pulled out of that moving van.

Oh, the boxes.

The entire mess was supposed to fit into mom's

room - a really decent sized bedroom with a 

sitting area and attached bath. Lots of storage.

But, please! A whole house into a suite?

And, of course, she wanted to start going through

the boxes one...at...a...time, handling, touching,

caressing every...single...item...in...each...box.

This picture is of mom shortly after she arrived.

I remember when I looked at this photo that it struck

me as so odd -- my mom was "old", you know, 

a senior. I had never seen it in her before and 

maybe that's because she was never "sick" before, 

I don't know. But, though she looks different to me here, 

she's still beautiful and 85 this summer.

Mom has to use a walker to get around.

She is a bit frail and her sense of balance is

somewhat off. This is the safest way for her

to get around -- even when re-introducing herself

to the goats. 

So, mom has dementia, she's moved everything

she's ever owned to the ranch and

on top of that, after she had been here for a few 

weeks, she fell and sustained three hairline fractures

in these two bones that attach to the bottom of your

hips. Yeah.

Pain, such pain sitting, standing, sitting.

Nothing that can be done (in the way of surgery) 

and thank goodness she is almost healed and the

pain is lessening weekly because she has really been hurting.

However, even in the middle of hurting she manages to

dig out her sense of humor...the picture above is mom in

a sweat suit, hood up, topped by her heavy robe 

(and an asked for pathetic look) because she 

was/is/is always cold. Someone needs to tell her she's 

in south Texas now, not Michigan.

This picture was taken this Easter, just a couple of weeks ago.

We had just been to church to witness Blake, Clay and

their daddy's baptism (it was so cool).

Blake and Clay wanted a picture taken with Grammy once

we got home. Oh, and Sophie, too.

These are the moments I like to remember.

The ones I must remember to get through the

other moments that fill my days.

I remember growing up, into my adult years, always

fearful that one of my parents would get cancer and die.

The word "cancer" had always scared me and I could

picture having to live through one of my parents getting

sick with "the C word".

Never, however, did I or have I thought that one of my parents 

would develop dementia.

It's a condition that does no apparent 'physical' harm to the person

suffering from it because they don't know that there's

anything wrong. It's the children and all of those who love

my mom that have been the greatest affected.

She has moments with me where she will question "why"

in reference to her confusion and memory loss,

but, except for those moments, 

it's those of us that love her that are feeling

the most pain. And, I'm sure there are many of you

that can relate to that.

And to those of you that are the care givers or have been

the care giver, I know what you're feeling.

I know your frustration, your feelings of inadequacy,

your fear, your exhaustion, the pounds you've added

or the pounds you've lost, those moments of delight that

you share with your parent. I know all of it

and I pray for you as I hope you are praying for me

and all of the caregivers.

AN ALZHEIMER'S POEM

Do not ask me to remember

Don't try to make me understand

Let me rest and know you're with me

Kiss my cheek and hold my hand.

I'm confused beyond your concept

I am sad and sick and lost

All I know is that I need you

To be with me at all cost.

Do not lose your patience with me

Do not scold or curse or cry

I can't help the way I'm acting

Can't be different though I try.

Just remember that I need you

That the best of me is gone

Please don't fail to stand beside me

Love me until my life is done.

Amen.

I WANT MY MOM BACK

This post is going to be plain Jane. No photos, no funny comments, just the truth and sometimes the truth hurts. Sometimes it hurts badly.

You might remember that my mom fell and landed on her head about three years ago. She was like 81?? Anyway, she had to have brain surgery because blood was pooling or something so they did surgery and she's been fine since.

About a month ago my mom started having trouble sleeping and without sleep she was not good company and she began to become weak which makes all the sense in the world. She soon started having some hallucinations.

It gave me pause as it probably did all of my siblings. But I kept my thoughts to myself and we went on. Finally (finally), one of my sisters that was spending some time with mom decided that a second opinion was needed. (really??)
I don't know how, but they got her in this amazing clinic that was able to stabilize her and get her on the correct meds. Things started looking up. She's been sleeping pretty regularly.

Things started looking up, here, at least.
I'm in Texas.
My brother, Russ and his wife, Leslie, are in Florida.
My two sisters, Joan and Jean, and Randy and my SIL, Eileen, are all up north with my mom who lives in Kalamazoo. It's actually all of them that have done all of the "heavy lifting". I'm here in Texas where it costs 800 dollars to fly round trip to Michigan so I am living in my own little Hell, different than theirs. Russ is able to get to Michigan from Florida very easily and he has really stepped up.
I'm very proud of all of my siblings for stepping up and fighting the fight, all of them working for the good of mom. Even when there might be a disagreement, they step back and do what's best for mom.  It's been really wonderful seeing them work together - all for the good of mom.

And, I sit here in Texas, praying, reading updates, participating in conference calls w/ doctors, reading more updates.........so many emails that some days it feels like that's all I do, discussions about specifics, you get the drill. And do you get that all of this has happened in one month????

Are you feeling my sense of helplessness? It's been incredibly hard but I have done what I can and will continue to do my best for my mom from here and when I make trips up north.
I leave the first of January for two weeks with my mom.

Mom's been moved to an independent living facility in Kalamazoo that is for dementia patients. I've seen photos, it's so, so nice, and so, so expensive. LOL (Why I'm laughing, I don't know). There's a library, small TV rooms, a small kitchen where the patients can bake or cook with their OT, an atrium, craft room. She has her own huge room and her furniture. Looks great in the photos I've seen.

Last night when they took her there for her first night they told me that she was restless and confused.
Oh, sweet Jesus, that word. That word, "confused". It breaks my heart to hear that my mom was confused.
Or that she was ugly, hateful, my mother. MY mother was ugly.

My mother is confused.
My mother is hateful and says ugly things to her children.
My.sweet.mother.

Oh, God, I want my mom back.
This is killing me.
I want my mom.

It seems like I spend a huge amount of time crying.
Do you think I'll cry less after I see her?
Doesn't sound like it at this point.

I don't want to go.
To Michigan.
I don't want to see her.
I'm so afraid she's not going to know who I am.
I haven't talked to her for a little over a month.
She doesn't ask for me.
She never asks for me.
I know she doesn't remember me.

She will never live in her home again.
And she will never come to the ranch again.
She loved the ranch so much.
And we loved having her here.
She got to see her Texas grand kids
and bake Clayman his favorite cake like 5 times in three months.
It seems like every thought I have connects to her and
every thing I see reminds me of her and I am so sad.

I know that I should be grateful that I had her for my mom and
that God blessed me in so many ways with her as my mom.
(Yes, I know she's still my mom. I get that.)
And I AM grateful.
But, right now I'm very sad and a little scared.

Pray for me?
I'd really appreciate it.
And pray for my brothers and sisters, my family.
And pray for my mom.