Recently, my emotions have not been my own, they seem to be controlled by some meddling, distant clone who has not yet mastered the controls. One day (or should that be hour or minute?) I feel calm and empowered and full of energy to battle, to learn, to laugh in the face of what we are dealing with but the next day, I have walked through the looking glass and the world around me is no longer clear. There is a fog, a blurring, a lack of focus. Tasks that would have been easy to complete previously become irritatingly tricky, all the balls I usually juggle with ease are suspended around my head, refusing to play.
The emotions that I have strategically learnt to disguise or soften over the years have rebelled and no matter what strategy I currently employ, I cannot disguise them for long. Is it hormones? Is it a form of grieving? Is it sheer exhaustion?
Don’t get me wrong, I do not feel like this all the time, but the ‘walking through treacle’ analogy is pretty true. I’m more forgetful, more distracted, less attentive and to be honest I must be a bit of an enigma to those around me. I actually think that my brain is too full. I think I simply have too much going on, too many demands, too many questions, too many dreams. I think when we recently received our daughter’s diagnosis, it was expected but unexpected, believable but unbelievable, game changing, core shaking, mind blowing, worry inducing and basically a point in time when the world stopped. In the split second that it stopped, I saw my childhood, her childhood, my future, her future, the problems, the worries, the upset, the turmoil all topped off with a giant portion of ‘I love you just the way you are’. I think at that poignant moment, the reset button was pressed. My screen disappeared in to a tiny black dot in the centre, a black hole of data, a reboot.
But unlike the technology of today, I think my reboot is taking a bit of time.