powerlessness

Tonight Loopy was in pain again, so, since I had to go to the store anyway, I bought her:

• extra-strength tylenol (we just got the ok from the doc to use it to supplement her other meds)
• the National Enquirer (did you know Kevin was beating Britney??? "The Punching! The Slapping! The Story No One Else Has The Guts To Print!")
• an extension cord so she can plug in her computer and her heating pad at the same time
• our favorite low-cal/low-fat dessert, Klondike Slim-A-Bear ice cream bars

As I hauled them all out of the bag and piled them on the table she said, "oooh, you do love me!" and later, munching on the ice cream, she said, "oh, Lovey, Slim-A-Bear makes everything better!" I felt like the hero and my anxiety calmed down a little.

Yes, I've been feeling anxious. Anxious, guilty, and inadequate. Even though I'm rushing around all day—doing laundry, doing errands, getting things from stores and from home and organizing and setting up the new apartment—some days I literally couldn't do anything more than what I did—I've been feeling as though I'm not doing enough, that I'm screwing up, letting Loopy down.

This isn't total delusion. I've worked hard to be ready for our trip tomorrow, but it's already late and I still have to do the dishes, another load of laundry, take out the garbage, and pack. I'm doing my best and it's not good enough.

When I try to leave the apartment to do something for myself, I feel a thousand times more guilty. How on earth can I be so heartless as to leave Loopy alone, struggling from one room to another on her wobbly legs, stuck and frustrated when she can't make her reachers pick something up from the carpeting, or can't get her wheels over my shoes that I've left in the hall... How can I leave her in this situation just to do something purely selfish???

It should be emphasized that Loopy does nothing to promote this crazy way of thinking. She tells me I'm being silly, that these are just feelings, that she thinks I'm doing a great job, that I should take better care of myself, etc.

In the last 36 hours I've started to really try to take a look at this obsession with guiltiness, and am thinking it's nothing more than a huge struggle to avoid facing the horrifying powerlessness of this situation.

It's the same reasoning that makes children blame themselves for abuse, because the reality that they have NO CONTROL over the abusive situation is much, much scarier.

A random, rare illness with no known cause is also situation of total powerlessness. Sure, we can do our best under the circumstances, and sure it could be much much worse and thank goodness it isn't, but that doesn't change the fact that we've been blindsided by the universe.

Any situation of powerlessness is a reminder of our fragility, our vulnerability, and our ultimate inability to prevent our own death.

No wonder so many people respond to our situation with a dismissive, "I'm sure everything will be fine," and refuse to hear that Loopy may not fully recover. I don't argue with them, but it makes me feel alone.

I mean, maybe it will all be fine, and maybe it won't—and all the spunk and spirit and positive attitude in the world may not make any difference at all to those little nerves struggling to re-grow in Loopy's muscles.

Anyway. We're off to Loopy's sister's tomorrow, so I gotta pack. Hope you have a good Thanksgiving... ours will be memorable, that's for damn sure, thanks to Loopy's unintentional reunion with her estranged-for-decades mother. Maybe the National Enquirer will cover it...