Have you ever walked a tightrope? Started at one solid platform and gently and slowly placed your first foot on the line, toe first then heal and slowly holding your posture balanced while you gather the strength to bring the second foot forward and take the next step, continuing this momentum hoping to reach the platform at the other end of the rope? All the while, holding your head up and never looking down, praying to God you do not lose your balance and fall off the edge to your demise? Yeah, me either, until now, at least figuratively speaking. I am walking through life right now on a mental tightrope and I am consistently teetering, trying not to fall into the darkness within myself.
Before my husband passed away, I was full fledge into the political happenings in the world. Totally enveloped in the news channels and radio programs, watching, and listening to all that was occurring on a daily basis. This was my greatest concern in life. I was working 40 hours a week as a registered nurse, working my way through my bachelors’ program for nursing and feeling like I had life by the horns, like I must be one of the luckiest girls in the world. I had a great husband, who was also my best friend, four awesome children, a beautiful home, a great job and dreams to buy a place on the lake, where we could run away, unwind, and possibly spend our retirement years. Then, my whole world crashed, and life stood still.
In the last couple of months, I have been living in a sort of bubble and walking in a fog. Most recently, I feel like I am trapped in a room of a house on fire and I am watching the depression creep in like smoke seductively creeping under the doorway and inch by inch it is rising up, each little bit taking my breath away and I slowly feel like I am losing the fight. I am fighting the smoke with tears and screams of anguish as I am reminded of memories almost constantly during each moment of my day all while begging for God to take it all way, put out the flames before they reach me, and the entirety of my house falls down around me and at the same time begging my husband to please come back and let this all be a terrible nightmare.” Please. don’t leave me!!”
I cannot seem to catch myself from falling and it is a struggle to pull myself back up when I do. I am searching desperately within myself to find someone or something to blame and the longer my husband is gone the more intense the pain seems to become. I have been so lost in my fight to keep my head up and be strong that I seem to have lost sight that the world was still rotating and moving on around me.
After two months of fighting my own personal battle, I finally decided to turn on my television and open my eyes to something other than myself and the scrubbing and organizing of every cupboard and closet in my home, and I see that the world is rapidly losing its own battle. We are watching our world crumble through bad politics and at the hands of evil beings, all the while I can only focus on staying balanced, placing one foot in front of the other just to make It through each day, keeping my mental state of mind in check and reaching the other end of the rope with a sigh of relief as I place my feet on a solid platform once again.
Am I wasting my time to fight? If the world is headed to its own demise, perhaps I am better off just letting go. What is the use? What am I really fighting for? To live in a world that will constantly ask me to fight, that will take away all of my rights and control my every move?
No, I am fighting for much more and I still believe in our country and I believe in all of us as Americans. I know we will all fight for what is right for our beloved country and I must fight for what is right for myself and for my children. I have never been one to give up easily or to walk away from a fight when it involves the sanctity of my home and the well-being of my children, nothing in this world is worth more.
It is not easy, and it seems to only be getting harder. I know I am a strong woman with a great deal of will power and drive. I also know that this is the toughest fight I have ever endured in my life and believe me in my life there have been more than a few difficult roads.
This particular struggle is going to take every ounce of my strength to extinguish the flames that are coming towards me and watch the smoke dissipate to near nothing and eventually be completely gone and which point, I can then reach out, take hold of the handle on the door as it starts to cool and feel the calmness ensue around me allowing me to exit the room and rebuild my foundation, take the reins and regain the sanity within me.
I know this all sounds a bit desperate and suicidal, but I am not suicidal, I would never entertain the ideal of taking my own life. The desperation however is real and alive within me. I am desperately fighting to make the pain stop and the reality of my husband never returning home to quit feeling like some new thought that I had not already realized many times over. I am hopeful that one day my heart will not feel empty but instead full of loving memories that come only with laughter and smiles.
I wonder if life will ever feel normal again, if the memories will ever stop feeling like slaps in the face or will I spend the rest of my life walking this tightrope and fighting the flames?