Looking back

No one likes living with regret. But I have done some foolish things in an attempt to seem capable and responsible. Namely, living alone with my children so soon after my stroke. I was trying, well desperate really, to achieve my pre-stroke life in any way possible. Mental motivation pushed me physically and at the time I felt ready to resume my rightful place.

Looking back now, a year and a bit later, under a cloud of fog for that period, I question whether I should have done that. Particularly now that I am discovering that very few stroke survivors even live alone, much less as a single parent with children.

My biggest regret is not focusing on them more. The distraction I had created by embarking on a new and somewhat disastrous relationship didn’t help matters. Not only was I guiding them inappropriately, I wasn’t paying much attention to my own health and wellbeing. There was a cruise control going on for me. A real persistence to reiterate to everyone around that I was just fine.

It took a few months, but the slow crash came and sunk me to the bottom. My children were with their father at the time. I felt at sea, with no focus that our daily routines had held. They were the glue and I was like a limp piece of paper barely holding on. Without them, I sunk into my couch for weeks.

It was no surprise at this time that my body started to give out. I had spent 3 months on no medication, but within a short period, I was dosed up on a fair bit. My health has been an ongoing frustration, but back then it was just frightening. It was a period when I had no idea what would happen next. I was up at night anxiety-ridden, convinced I would have another stroke. Every little pain was an alert. When I woke up in the mornings I was thankful I was still alive.

The depths I felt coincided with the anniversary of my stroke. While I think the depression was short-lived, it is a sadness I cannot forget. It drove me to take action and that is the path I have been on ever since.

A good part of this was letting go of my pre-stroke life. There was a grieving process around that, not only for myself physically, but for the lifestyle I once had. The love and downright idealism that came before and no longer existed. I had to mentally separate from my X as we had in person. His life was no longer mine. We shared memories, secret nostalgic moments, and of course, parenthood. Chances of a reconciliation came crashing with his instigation of making our situation legal.

The learning curve for my children still continues. I’ve been accused of no longer being “a fun mom”. This hurts, and I say so. I cannot be the same mother, I am a different mother. Better in a sense because I have been forced to learn so much about myself, I only see this as being an extension to them and that ultimately the trauma we’ve been through will undoubtedly strengthen them.

One of the great things about parenthood, is that tomorrow is always another chance to make things right. Currently the X has our youngest, D, with him, while I care for our eldest, M. It is a brief arrangement that will enable us to focus on each child individually and so far it seems to be bringing all four of us great joys and strides forward.