Living On the Brink

I think I’m living on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Is that even a thing anymore?

The last few weeks have been a roller coaster of highs and lows. What was supposed to be a simple surgery has turned into one of my worst nightmares. Okay, maybe not THE WORST. Through it all, I have been pretty sure we weren’t a life-threatening situation, but having a child in tremendous pain without knowing what to do about it is about the most horrible feeling I can possibly imagine.

Every time we think we see the light at the end of the tunnel, we are plummeted back into a dark hole of pain and the unknown.

I feel like I’m constantly on the delicate precipice of losing my hold on sanity. I keep it together because someone has to. And just when I think I can let my guard down and breathe, something else happens to drag me back into the nightmare.

During the calmer moments, I type and post and share and write and do — just keep moving, doing, carrying on as if I can will our lives back to the normal that seems so long ago, so surreal.

During the crazy moments, I affect a facade of calm while my brain is running 110 miles an hour with what to do and who to call and how to help.

We make plans only to cancel and reschedule.

We keep thinking that in a few days, this will be but a memory, but it’s very much our reality.

We keep saying this will soon seem like a dream, but it never ends.

My own medical issues are on hold until I have time to focus on myself. I can’t even run to relieve the stress.

Meanwhile the other kids need help with their homework, need to be shuttled to and from music lessons and picked up from after-school rehearsals. We try to keep a semblance of normalcy, a wan smile plastered on my face lest they see a chink in the armor and worry. I assure and reassure, yes, everything is going to be okay.

People ask me how we’re doing and I say, “It’s going to be alright.”

And I believe it is. I just wish I knew when.

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32 Responses

  1. Oh, Jo-Lynne. I am so sorry to hear this. You have a lot on your plate right now, and I sure wish I knew what to say to help. Just know that I’m praying for you and your son. Hold on and trust.

  2. Oh, I am so sorry. I know they will figure out what is wrong…but you have every right to feel “on the brink.” Thinking of your family and a speedy recovery for your little guy.

  3. Praying for you all. Remember – if someone asks if they can help, please say yes. I know that’s a hard thing to do (for me anyway), but God sends us what we need and many times it is in the form of someone asking what they can do to help.

  4. “When” is always the huge question. We know God can fix it. We even believe He will. BUT when?? Why do we have to wait? What advantage is there to this waiting and wondering how long? That’s the nature of trials, to be sure. I’m so thankful you have good healthcare and insurance (I’m assuming) and that it’s not life-threatening. “Oh! Just for one normal day!” I recently read from Elisabeth Elliot. It’s true that a boring, normal day looks pretty gorgeous, from the middle of a nightmare. May your normal days return soon.

  5. So sorry for your difficulties – praying for quick healing for your son and a return to normalcy soon! May God send the comfort, peace, and help that you need!

  6. The only way to get through any difficulty in life is to trust in our Lord and Savior. He knows what you and your family are going through, so pray to Him with all your heart, soul and mind for His comfort, for His wisdom to know what to do, for healing, for peace of mind – – for all that you need right now. He is our reality, not this world that we live in.

  7. I’m so sorry. I feel like I’m right there with you…ER visits for 2 kids, hospitals, antibiotic reactions, eczema flare-ups. My brain is so tired trying to wade through all of this much less meet the needs of my other kids. Even having a small cold/cough going through our house right now… seriously?? All of this with new insurance. It seems like a bunch of small things, but the constant barrage is exhausting…physically, mentally, and emotionally. While I’m down, I’ll move to my knees. I’ll be praying for you for you from the trenches.

  8. My heart goes out to you. I can’t imagine anything worse than seeing your child suffer in pain. I’m sending prayers your way that your son feels better soon.

  9. I know it is tough, but try to stay positive. We mothers can definitely relate. We all feel so helpless when our children are sick. Hang in there and make sure to ask for help if you need it. God bless.

  10. Praying for you right now as I read the post. Praying for healing and that His comfort, love, and peace surrounds you and your family during this time. It’s so tough when there seems to be no end in sight, or that God isn’t “moving” as quickly as we need him to. Keep leaning on Him….His promises are always true whether we see them or not. Take Care!

  11. Jo-Lynne,
    I read your blog every day. Even though I do not know you I feel like you are a good friend. I’m so sorry for what you and your family have been going through. It must feel so overwhelming. You are a super tough mama and I know you are handling it all with strength and grace. Just know that you have a lot of people out there rooting for you. 🙂

  12. Jo-Lynne, I wish so badly I was there to run a kid to music class for you or bring a casserole by…gluten-free of course! But I’m not. Please know that I’m praying for you…and my heart feels your hurt…and I hurt for you. Hang in there, and know that you have friends all over the place who care. We do care. Bless you!

  13. I just said a prayer for your family during my prayer time. May God be the lifter of your heads and give you peace that passes all understanding. Psalm 30:5 says, “Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” In Christ.

  14. Anything involving a renal stent – potential for a nightmare. I screamed like a psychotic person x 12 hrs straight until they removed mine. I was in the hospital for a week and then truly had PTSD for three days after I was discharged..I would just sit and cry. Health issues are tough. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other and the biggest thing — don’t be afraid to admit you need help. There is just no way to do this without the help of friends (church, etc.). Let them care for you, bring you meals and pick up your kids. I am so sorry you guys are going through this.

  15. I hope your son turns a corner soon on the road to feeling better. I have a son the same age and can imagine the stress you must feel with his suffering. It will get better!

  16. Oh I’m so sorry for what is troubling your family. It is precisely that – a mother’s worst nightmare. I do hope you can find a minute (or ten) to run a mile – it will help you breathe and please reach out to those close to you! Like other commenters I do not know you personally but I do live in the Philly suburbs and feel like I would love to help. *hugs*

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