The Struggle is Real

 

Have you been struggling to write recently?  Well, you are not alone.  Sometimes it’s lifus interruptus, sometimes you just cannot get your head in the game, and sometimes the character you most want to talk to you just doesn’t have anything to say.

 

Yep, that’s me.

 

Like so many of you, my life changed in 2020.  I am blessed in that we did not lose any loved ones but my life still changed drastically.  In late February of that year we were looking into having my FIL placed in a nursing home.  He could no longer care for himself, and it wasn’t safe for him to be alone.

 

Well, we all know what happened just a few short weeks later.  But that did not change the fact that my FIL still could not be left alone.  Which meant we had to change our lives around in order to take care of him 24/7.  My house is not big enough to fit one more person, and there was neither time nor money to build an in-law apartment on.  So we had to make the decision to divide our time, with the help of a couple of family friends, and care for him there.

 

I never imagined that three years later we would still be doing this.  But life has changed, financial pictures have changed, and we have not yet found a way to get my FIL the full time long term care he needs.  So we struggle and juggle.

 

That struggle has taken a toll on my life considerably.  Now along with working two jobs I care for my FIL in the mornings. 

 

Add to that the usual worries about the cost of groceries and gas and the heating bills, my FIL’s merry go round of doctor appointments, lab work and other needs and life isn’t just busy it’s scary busy.  And if you’ve ever been a caregiver you know there are no days off, no sick days, no rest, no end to the endless stress and worry. And if I am honest, resentment.  This is not a man who was kind to me when I first joined his family and while most days I can separate the man I care for now, who has dementia, from the one who was so nasty to me in the past.  Most days.

 

And he has a daughter and grandson who could be helping but offer nothing but excuses as to how busy they are and then don’t hesitate to tell us what we should be doing.  So my husband and two sons and I carry the load along with one remaining family friend.

 

Where to find the time to write in the midst of all this chaos?

 

Join me here each Monday—hopefully—for an update on my progress as I fight to reclaim the very thing I have spent my life wanting to do, my therapy during sad or hard times, the thing that brings me joy and fulfillment.  

 

Currently there are at least a dozen characters pushing, shoving and elbowing one another out of the way to be next in line to tell their story.

 

Will I make it and get back on track with writing?  Or will I fail miserably?  Only time will tell.

 

The struggle is real.