Driver Wanted
I knew this would be a crazy week. I knew there was a lot going on, and I knew that I was not in the best place I could be to handle it.
That doesn’t prevent me from being surprised and scared when I realize I’m getting my ass kicked.
Everything is okay in the larger sense. I know where I’m going, and I know how to get there. This is just the part of the trip that always fucks me up. Like night time construction. The road is all bumpy, the lanes shift, traffic moves too fast for comfort but too slow for my taste. The bright lights that make work safer for the crews blind me, so that I navigate the mess half blind, heart racing, white-knuckled at ten and two, praying for smooth open road up ahead.
My frustration with the uncertainty at work boiled over yesterday. I had a very frank and frantic discussion with a Human Resources executive, and he was kind and concerned and helpful- as he always is- but he doesn’t have the key to my chains. If it is rattling around in his pocket, he still has to pretend that all that clinking is spare change.
I called the doctor’s office and told the PA about Friday’s incident. As I predicted, I got my lecture on skipping meals. In a more unpredictable move, she wrote me a prescription for a blood sugar meter, asked me if I was still living alone, and directed me to give instructions to my friends and coworkers should they find me unconscious. Which reminded me yet again that despite the kindness of strangers, despite my overwhelming number of blessings in the form of loving friends, I am no one’s responsibility. If some how, some way, I should have another episode like Friday’s while I’m home alone, I could die. And just when I was chiding myself for being overly dramatic, the pharmacist who very sweetly took the time to show me how to use the meter, said just that. This is very serious, you need to pay close attention to your body, to your meals, to your test results when you are home alone. Because you could die. Which I still think is awfully melodramatic.
The third person to remind me how much sugar is in alcohol got the defensiveness and fear in the form of anger that the first two helped build. These people are worried about me, they’re worried about me getting sick if I drink. I’m worried about me too, it’s just that I’m more worried about going completely fucking insane if I don’t do something to calm my frayed nerves. Sadly, it is my doctor’s concern that I not rely too heavily on anxiety meds when I’m anxious that leads me down the path of least resistance. Still. I hardly think that a few drinks a few times a week constitutes a lecture or any concern, and as far as the sugar? I’m being very careful to eat at least a little something every four hours, per the PA’s instructions. And if I normally enjoy a few drinks, don’t I need to understand how that affects my blood sugar?
The last straw, the very last straw yesterday was the mail. I stayed late at the bar, both because I was enjoying myself and because I have to be able to drive myself home safely and legally, because I can’t just not go home. Because there isn’t anyone to drive me home. I pulled up to my mailbox in the wee hours of the morning and pulled out a postcard with a picture of a beautiful German Shepherd on the front. Adicus is due for his rabies booster. The dam broke, and I sat at the mailbox, in the opposing lane of traffic in a small break between switchbacks, laid my head on my steering wheel and let my wracking sobs pierce the cool night air.
In one small part of my life, someone else took the wheel yesterday. I turned over the file, put all the information in their hands, and they decided for me, and I let them. The relief washed over me. All the wondering and pondering and doubting and guessing- gone. In one instant. It isn’t that I’m relieved of owning the decision- you are never relieved of ownership- but the removal of power was better than heroin.
I am okay. I will be okay. I know where I’m going. I know how to get there. I know that if I concentrate, I can navigate this current construction zone.
In the same breath, though, I am beyond exhausted. I’m tired of driving. I passed the sign yesterday that says “no more rest stops for 75 miles”, and my limbs felt like lead and my eyes hurt and I could only put the windows down and turn the radio up loud and trust in my own ability to push ahead.
I wonder if I will ever stop missing that sweet loving dog, who, in his own dog way, protected me and looked out for me, who always came to me at the height of my desperation and laid his chin on my thigh with a deep whiny sigh and let my tears wet his fur while he nuzzled me in an attempt to comfort me. I’m here, I know you hurt, I love you, I see you and I hurt, I want to help.
I wonder if I will ever stop feeling cheated for being on my own. I wonder if I will ever find anyone that I can develop enough mutual trust and love with to let them take over when I’m so tired I can’t see straight. I wonder if I’ll ever again have someone to drive me home.
Who’s gonna tell you when
It’s too late
Who’s gonna tell you things
Aren’t so great
You can’t go on
Thinking nothing’s wrong
Who’s gonna drive you home tonight
Who’s gonna pick you up
When you fall
Who’s gonna hang it up
When you call
Who’s gonna pay attention
To your dreams
Who’s gonna plug their ears
When you scream
You can’t go on
Thinking nothing’s wrong
Who’s gonna drive you home tonight
Who’s gonna hold you down
When you shake
Who’s gonna come around
When you break
You can’t go on
Thinking nothing’s wrong
Who’s gonna drive you home tonight
“drive” – the cars
6 comments
*sighs* #cakeordeath
I understand this all too well.
But you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable,
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe.
MsDarkstar recently posted..Warrior Wednesday
As I’m continually told, it’ll all be ok. It has to be. It’s just not possible that life can be so cruel, as it has been for the past year, without there being something wonderful on the other side. Take opportunities as they arrive, sacrifice where you can, but most of all, just relax and let it ebb and flow over you.
I don’t want to be a nag but I don’t think the Pharmacist is being too dramatic about the importance of using the meter and monitoring the test results. My wife was diagnosed with type two diabetes a few years ago and she worked so hard in lowering her meter results that she had an episode like you. Luckily we were in church sitting next to an emergency room nurse who knew what to do and gave her orange juice. If she had been home alone she would have been in trouble, if she had been home with me she would have been in trouble because all I would have known to do is call 911. There are some pills/tablets that you can get that dissolve in your mouth that will help in an episode like this. My wife keeps some in her purse and we kept some in each room of the house until we got a handle on her diabetes.
Also you, like my wife, were in the perfect place for this to happen. Of all the places where this could have occurred, you happened to be in a place where there were people who knew what to do and did it. You are someone’s responsibility and he is with you all the time. He took care of you and made sure you were in that perfect place when this happened.
You have such a great attitude, despite some hardships…you inspire me! And love these lyrics…
Jolene recently posted..Writing for myself- dammit
I had one of those wracking sobbing moments the other day – it was started by a radio telethon for St. Judes and a woman talking about losing her daughter. I was driving while having this moment I probably should have pulled over. It inspired my last post.
Take care of yourself ! And god dammit eat something!
Tricia recently posted..Hope and Despair
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