Low Points

I admit it, I've been feeling pretty low this week. Haven't gotten a lot done. I felt pretty bad about missing church, again, but this time I didn't even get the option of going. So I spent the time working on some gifts I'm sending out next week. I was supposed to finish them this week.

You know those times in life when things just sort of pile on top of one another until you feel buried underneath a huge mound of garbage? That's how it feels right now. My health problems cause financial problems--in more ways than one. There's the obvious issue of my not working, and more than once I've heard that my workers' compensation rate is the lowest it could possibly be. Then when the insurance denies refills on meds the doctors prescribe me and Bryan has to choose to either pay for the meds out of the grocery budget or watch his wife be in pain, you can imagine what he chooses. And you can imagine the guilt that causes.

It's impossible not to feel guilty. I've been feeling so awful I'm wondering if it's possible to develop PTSD from situations such as mine. How do you ever get on top of it again? How do you break the cycle? I saw the neurologist on April 5, EIGHT months after my initial injury. We're still waiting on the insurance approval to begin treatment. Right now I don't technically *have* a doctor until that treatment plan is approved. I don't know how long it will take to get approved, or how long the treatment will last until I start to feel better.

And then what happens? I'll be honest. This has gone on for so long I'm almost afraid to get better. I want to get better. I want to not hurt anymore, but I don't know what to do about the fear and anxiety I'm having. What's going to happen when I'm expected to resume normal life again? Am I going to feel ready? Am I going to *be* ready? And I don't even know if we're talking months or years.

The financial strain is killing us. The emotional strain is even worse than the financial strain. And it's affecting the entire family. This is the kind of thing that's impossible to shield the kids from. I've started looking longingly toward the summer months because at least then they won't have school stress to worry about. They'll get some kind of break, because I can't give them a break from me.

And let me tell you, that guilt you can't measure by the bucket load.

In my darkest moments, and this week has been full of them, I want to rail against the injustice of it all. I went back to work because Bryan couldn't find a job. I went back to work because we needed money, cash flow, because I was trying to be a responsible parent and adult. I worked for 5 weeks before hitting my head on that stupid counter. 5 lame weeks. And I've been laid up with this stupid head injury, this inane brain injury, for going on NINE MONTHS. Sometimes I get so pissed about that I want to scream.

What did I do that was so wrong?

Then I calm down. Eventually. I know it was just an accident. And I know there's a plan. I believe that. I don't know all the details, and that can be frustrating, especially when I see how the struggle hurts my kids, but I have to trust God. I have to. He's brought me this far.

He didn't bring me all the way through all the rest of that crap just to dump me here. I know He didn't.