Inside Your Head
What’s going on in there?
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Every morning, We get up and do the same things. Take a shower, make coffee, sit down, boot up our laptops or head to work, and see where our day is heading and what is on our schedules. From there, we proceed through the day and evenings just in time to start the process all over again. We often refer to this as a schedule.
Like many others, my day starts pretty much the same, with few variances. I add in taking care of my 92 yr old mother-in-law that requires assistance, and instead of heading to work, I boot up my laptop to start my workday. Or do I? I wear so many hats these days and often wonder where one gets taken off, and another put on. Mother, Wife, Caregiver, Digital Marketer, Student, and somewhere in there I’m supposed to find me.
A couple of weeks ago, my brother-in-law suffered a left frontal stroke. We were shocked and devastated. At 72, he was a very independent man who took himself everywhere and participated in any activity he wanted to. He helped me daily with the care of his mother and was active in his community. Just when we thought he was making solid progress toward recovery, he suffered another massive stroke on the right side. This one did significant damage and left him in a deep sleep (not a coma) that we are unsure he will wake up from, and should he wake up, who will he be?
That single line has had me doing some profound reflections on what goes on inside our heads, in my head. I find myself running through several scenarios multiple times a day. What do you say, how do you say it, should you say it, is it ok to say it, should you think it, why shouldn’t you think it, how much can you take, can you take more, should you take more, why can’t you take more? Are you selfish, giving, stingy, caring, cold, loving? How do you make the hard choices people leave you to make? Why do multiple people in your life leave you to make the same hard choices for them? And finally, what does that say about you as a person?
My head feels like an empty bowl of mush most times these days (no pun intended). It wasn’t all that long ago, just last year, that I had to make these same hard calls for my father-in-law, and I found myself feeling the same way. I had hoped those types of calls were ones I wouldn’t have to make again for years, if at all. Now I find myself right back there, struggling with decisions that I’m left to make and how those decisions reflect on me as a family member, and more importantly, a human being and how they make me feel being that human being.
Reconciling the decisions we make with the choices given is often one of the hardest things we do. The thought process we go through often unexplainable, or at least the way we would like to explain it. The repercussions that stem from those choices at times unbearable. The scars we are left to bear but never physically show always there.
For me, writing is a way to process those questions, choices, feelings, and answers. It gives me an outlet to express what’s going on inside my head and try to come up with solutions no matter which hat I’m wearing at that moment. Though I have to admit, on this particular day, with all that I have in front of me, even writing may not be helping as much as it usually does. How many times can I write about it before I have it worked out inside my head? Will I ever get it worked out? If not, how will I cope? What scars will I bury with this decision? What or how much of me will vanish with this decision? All of these questions are swirling around, and I’m still left wondering.
What’s going on in there?
I’m wondering if, just for today, it’s ok not to know.
