Past and Present

What can I say that I haven’t already said? I find myself in an endless mind loop, incapable of considering new avenues. The cycle of repetition is frustrating but also reassuring. These thoughts are too familiar. Maybe by pacing back and forth through them, I’ll see something new or remember something old that I need to know? The past two years I’ve spent immersing myself in someone else’s world and needs- it’s like that time is fighting to stay relevant while I slide back into my old home life. I may be in Ohio instead of Massachusetts, but I’m with my family, talking about diets and cousins and softball games. If I didn’t have Trey, it would be like no time had past at all, based on the physical situation and day to day life. I’m trying to find some way to marry who I was before Robert and who I was during our time together. I can’t be just Susie anymore, but I’m also emerging from the silent automaton I had become, Mrs. Miller trapped in the pattern of work-hospice-sleep. I’ve always enjoyed new roles and shifting identities; this one is going to take some work before I’m ready for opening night.

Trey has somewhat regressed, sleeping-wise, and isn’t sleeping through the night anymore. He’s in the crib and not in the bassinet anymore so that may be why. He used to be by my side at night where I could reach over and comfort him, but now he has to start crying loud enough to wake me up before he gets attention. I’m trying all the things the book say to, so I’m not too worried. The lack of sleep is wearing me down, but I functioned on a lot less when Trey was newborn and Robert was at home needing assistance as well. Hey, I am the lizard queen, I can do anything.