The Bells of Psychological Toll

It has been bitterly blue cold this week and I am spending more time indoors, sinking into another valley.

When my husband first lost his job, I was still employed and he had just started his daily job search.   Nearly a year later, I had a health scare which weighed me with much anxiety, and turned out to be nothing.  Then I lost my job.  In the grand scheme of things, I’d rather be unemployed than ill, if I could pick my poison.   I spent a month on the couch, decompressing, in between doing the things I had to do, not wanting to do, but forcing myself to do.   I decided to see a doctor who put me on medication which raised my blood pressure, who then wanted to put me on high blood pressure medication.   I nixed the doctor and went it on my own.  I pulled myself out of the trenches, exercising, getting pep talks, counting my blessings, you know the drill.  

Then my husband had a stroke which threw my whole life into a tailspin.  When he was denied temporary disability and we were now living on one unemployment check until he recovered, I was in constant angst mode, day and night for months.  It seemed as though I would feel this way for the rest of my life.  When he resumed unemployment, I became more like myself again.   I told my mother-in-law I was feeling better and she remarked I was just getting used to it.   This is not something you want to get used to, like being held hostage, incarcerated or abused.  I want to break free, live my life again, with some measure of security (real or imagined) at least for a while, again. 

At this point, the timeline of my life does not reach into eternity as it did when I was 20.  There is a finite end and I want to spend that time enjoying my life, not dreading it.  So I will look back with pride and forward with hope and keep moving in the only direction I can.  Ahead.