Tinfoil Hat Needed

Oh, how wonderful it would be if I could cruise around in a tinfoil hat. One that would keep out all the pesky thoughts that are so LOUD. I’m sure some of you know what I’m referring to. The negative buggars lurking around to smack us down when we’re striving to reach the moon and stars.

Obviously, this is not my photo-I claim no rights to it. I also have no idea to give credit to. It is a shot from the movie Signs.

Obviously, this is not my photo-I claim no rights to it. I also have no idea who the photographer was in order to render credit. It is a shot from the movie, Signs.

I could also use the hat as a signal to my cohabitors, that I’m trying to hold on and process information, so it’s best to abstain from asking questions–unless absolutely necessary. Small talk isn’t wise, and asking me to make a decision would be a no-no as well.

Obsessing over the findings that Blunt Oncologist feels are suspicious is not consuming my thoughts. What is bothering me is that I’m feeling sorry for myself. BUT, not in the way some would think.

My husband lost his father a week ago. Four days later, I had to tell him that I didn’t exactly have a clean scan. I don’t know what the little findings are, and I can’t live in a world full of anxiety until I have further information to process–so I have chosen to avoid living that way.

I have consulted Dr. Google, and I’m thinking my old lady career should be a radiologist–or a writer of abstract studies. I don’t do this to diagnose myself, I do this so that I can pick up the nuances doctors throw out. I know what questions to ask.

My husband has a ton of decisions to make, a house in another state to prepare for sale, and other legal processes. He needs my support, but my mind is scrambled at the moment, and I’m unable to compartmentalize like I wish I could.

What’s bothering me……..

Why does it seem that my family and I are presented with mind numbing events which coincide?

Why can’t ONE thing happen, healing begins and is attained, before something else happens?

It’s nice to believe positive thoughts are all I need to survive, and will help me with the battle in my brain, but it’s impossible to be little Ms. Positive Pants, 24/7.

I can be Ms. Positive Pants through my blog, on FB–which I don’t really use much, or in social gatherings. But when I’m alone, or with my husband, I have to fight the tears.

Not tears of fear, tears of defeat.

Not defeat that I may have further physical complications to deal with, as I believe it is what it is.

It’s defeat that I can’t make my mind do what I want it to do.

I have spent many years learning how to block thoughts. I have been successful blocking memories of gaffes I’ve made in my past, and I no longer beat myself up because someone told me I was ugly when I was 7, or I made some bad choices in my teens/early 20s.

Again, thanks to my therapist, I have learned to control most of my anxiety. At least enough to avoid the feeling of experiencing a heart attack, or that I will be removed to a “safe” place until I return to reality.

I’m human.

I can’t always be positive.

I can’t always be supportive.

I can’t always be happy.

On the flip side…

I can’t always be sad.

I can’t always worry.

I can’t always be negative.

But I do need more time than “normal” people, to pull myself back together. Right now, it’s hard carrying on a conversation with anyone. This won’t last forever, but I need to allow it move through me.

Maybe, today is the day I make that tinfoil hat.

 

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About April

I'll come back to this when I find out who I really am. I've been through some extremely rough patches but they have made me a better person. I blog if my brain is functioning first thing in the morning.
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18 Responses to Tinfoil Hat Needed

  1. I’m so sorry for your husband’s loss and for the results of your scan. My heart goes out to you as you understandably feel overwhelmed by everything. I do understand as I have been there, and my “door” is always open. Prayers to all of you and healing too.
    Blessings, Susan x

    • April says:

      Thank you, Susan. I’m learning to give myself a break, and let the emotions happen instead of fighting them. It seems to help me. Today seems to be okay….

  2. suzjones says:

    As someone who spends most of her days with tears just below the surface I know exactly how you feel. Just keep plodding my beauty. Nobody expects you to be perfect.

  3. April I loved how you walked through this. It’s kind of like you wrapped your self in this blog foil.

    • April says:

      Blogging has certainly helped me understand my thoughts. Because I strive to write in a manner that makes sense, it forces me to recognize what it is I’m actually focusing on.

  4. reocochran says:

    It is good to let us know how you feel! I liked the picture, it made me smile! It’s not easy… I feel for you! Smiles, Robin

  5. Gallivanta says:

    A tinfoil hat seems like an excellent idea.

  6. Pingback: Liar Liar Pants On Fire | Finding Beauty In Spite of Myself

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