Personal journal, “The Neverending Confusion of Numbers”

      My chest tightens and I can’t breathe. The numbers scramble in my mind yet again as I try to make sense of them on the receipt. None of it makes sense to my swiss cheese brain. The numbers swim in front of each other and change each time I try to focus on them. I still feel like I can’t breathe as I ask myself do I have enough? Can I pay the bill? Am I going to have to call one of my kids to bail me out of this? I’ve hidden this from everyone for so long and it was easier when I had breathing room. Yet lately there is no wiggle room at all. It’s just too much and again I think “why didn’t I just stay at home today?”

      It would be so much easier to simply stay home, to never go anywhere except the grocery store to get food to eat at home. Easier, simpler but even this is becoming harder to handle. To many years of everyone expecting me to be the head of the house and to do all things has lead to this. There is only so much I can do or handle. As of late I feel strangled with this financial noose tightening around my neck.

      Today is the worst of days and I know this is adding to my inner feeling I will never be able to handle anything. I have activities set into place for this day, yet the ending bit of my day I don’t know if I can do it. Can I hold it together? Will I make it through this twelfth year of grieving this day? Each year holds less and less pain but there is still pain to feel. 

      The hardest thing to remember was this had been a day I looked forward to as a fun day, filled with so much silliness. Until the one moment which changed it. Now it has become a holiday full of remembered pain. Yesterday I’d stood in place at a get together where I wanted to be, had looked forward to the whole week. I stood there and wanted to gather my things and leave, go home, hide in my room.

      Most days I simply wish I could physically cry, let it out and be done with it. Before the brain injury it was simple. Cry, let it out, move on. Done. Now it is as if it festers within me eating me up from the inside until I want to scream for hours.

       Perhaps this the way I cry now.

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