Friends

Back in 1988, my new friend, Mr. Psychologist, who was helping me cope with the side effects of the head injury recovery process, shared a word picture that helps me even today.

He said, “Everyone has a sack of pebbles they carry on their back. Some have larger pebbles than others. Some have more pebbles. Some have less.”

I then announced “if everyone has pebbles then I have BOULDERS in my sack.” Remember, head injury patients are prone to ill-timed emotional outbursts and I was a textbook case. These days when I act out I just yell “Coma” so everyone remembers it’s not my fault. It doesn’t really work all that often but can you blame me for trying?

Focus, Sherra, focus.

Okay, so the real lesson here is not that I have boulders and you don’t. I believe we all have pebbles, rocks and boulders and we all cope with them in very different ways.

Your boulders may be bigger and heavier than mine. They come in all shapes and sizes and weights. (Hey, just like people.) We’re not here to judge anyone’s boulders so please, let’s start by not judging mine. We are not in a boulder competition. I repeat, this is not a competition!

Rather, we need to look for ways to help each other see past the boulders, move them, chip them away – do whatever it takes to get that other human being around, over or out from behind the boulder.

Upon realizing that The Black Hole (TBH) was a giant boulder and it was getting in the way of my day-to-day life, I knew I had to do something.

The first thing I did was to make a doctor’s appointment with my OB/gyn. It conveniently coincided with that extra-special annual appointment that we all love so much. I did feel a tiny bit productive multi-tasking like that.

I’m pretty verbal (as if you haven’t already figured that out) and I know the importance of being my own medical advocate. I shared with my doctor who I had been seeing since just after the twins were born, that I was having a hard time “coping” at home and my PMS seemed to be lasting, on average, about 28 to 30 days every month.

I really believe that knowing the rhythm of our bodies is crucial for our health and well-being.

My doctor listened, nodded, and made some notes on his new hi-tech laptop that held my new paperless medical records.

Then he sent me home with the latest, greatest anti-depressant and patted me on the back and said to call if I needed anything else…

To be continued…

If you missed part one…

The Black Hole, Part One

Or to read more of the riveting story that I probably should just turn into a free ebook…

The Black Hole, Part Three
The Black Hole, Part Four
The Black Hole, Part Five
The Black Hole, Part Six
The Black Hole, Part Seven

My journey into The Black Hole was not as easy to summarize as I first thought. Here is the beginning of the story that I will continue to share in the coming weeks. Not because I think the details are fascinating or I am trying to be more depressing, but because if my story can help just one woman who is going through something similar, I want to reach out to her…

I have discovered that I have the ability to muddle through even when life gets hard. It’s part of who I am. A stubborn, hardworking, Midwestern girl who knows bad things can happen to good people.

I have also discovered that it really takes a lot to send me spiraling into “The Black Hole” but spiral is what I do when faced with boulders. (More on boulders on another day.)

So far, three boulders have been put in front of me that have overwhelmed me enough to warrant intervention, professional counseling and/or drugs:

Boulder #1: The car crash, coma and learning to live with a head injury. May 1988

Boulder #2: Helping my mom take care of my dad when he was dying of multiple myeloma. February 2000

Boulder #3: An explosion with a flash fire at our house where PhilBillPaul and I suffered severe 2nd degree burns. September 2006

Lest you think I’m whining, I share these things with you to give you a bit more insight into who I am and let you know that I don’t typically fall apart when life gets hard.

I now realize that the fire was really a post-traumatic stress trigger. It brought up feelings so similar to the car crash “boulder” that it was almost eerie.

Except this time I had three teenagers and a 2nd grader and two dogs and I could barely function. It took all my strength to get out of bed and get cleaned up to “appear to be fine” at a school function or sporting event or anywhere in public.

My semi-rational brain knew that old adage of “surround yourself with positive people” is usually true.

Unfortunately, my irrational brain was working overtime. Positive people were the last people I wanted to be around. They can be very irritating to those of us who are not feeling so positive. Positive people were not invited into The Black Hole. This was a private party for one, thank you very much.

So I started avoiding doing anything that required me to get out of bed or get cleaned up or basically interact with other humans beyond my immediate family.

I was anti-social and preferred to be in my bedroom (in my bed) whenever possible. I answered the phone as little as possible.

I was a barrel of fun to live with.

To be continued…

To read more of the riveting story that I probably should just turn into a free ebook…

The Black Hole, Part Two
The Black Hole, Part Three
The Black Hole, Part Four
The Black Hole, Part Five
The Black Hole, Part Six
The Black Hole, Part Seven