Good to be back to my routine

clock on the side of a building with skyscrapers in the background
Keeping on schedule makes my life manageable

It’s good to be back to my regular life. As much as I like vacations (especially ones that involve nice weather and the beach), I really love my daily routine. It centers and grounds me, and it keeps me sharp… because I don’t have to figure everything out as I go along.

It’s predictable. It’s familiar. I can do it (metaphorically) with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back. I complain sometimes about feeling so trapped in my routine and daily rut, but it’s actually the thing that keeps me stable and chilled out.

My vacation was actually pretty stressful, in some ways. I wasn’t on my usual schedule of getting up, riding the exercise bike, eating my scrambled egg, then settling down with my coffee and banana to blog or read or chat online with friends there. There was no getting ready for work, driving down the road and thinking about things or listening to music, and then spending a day in my cubicle working on data “stuff”. It was more “free-flowing”, with my spouse not feeling very well and needing some sort of attention on a regular basis.

I had hoped to spend some quality time thinking and working on some of my projects, but that didn’t happen. My spouse was not only sick, but also very anxious. About everything. And that put us both on edge. I got pretty resentful at times, especially when I was interrupted in mid-thought. But I kept it together and did not snap out more than a few times.

I did break down in private, mid-way through the week. I just felt like I couldn’t take it anymore — the constant barrage of needs and demands and having to jump up and change gears at a moment’s notice. I was really, really tired, and I wasn’t getting enough sleep. It’s hard for me to sleep in other people’s beds, in rooms without blackout curtains. I had a sleep mask and earplugs, but it wasn’t the same. And it was either too hot or too cold in my bedroom, so that was hard, too.

Still and all, it was a good break. And it taught me a lot about myself, as well. I need to take really good care of myself, especially as I’m caretaking for a spouse who’s declining in terms of cognition and behavior. They’re getting on in years, and it’s finally catching up with them. We’re a generation apart, actually — and up until the past few years, it’s worked in our favor. I’ve always been attracted to older partners, and I’ve always been mature for my age, so it’s never been a problem. But when your partner starts to get “up there” in years… starting to seem downright elderly… and you’re just entering your real prime of life, well, that’s a complicated path to tread.

It’s a management issue, really. I need to manage myself more effectively and do a better job with my own self-care. It’s like I’m a vehicle pulling a very large wagon, and I need to keep my engine tuned and my gas tank filled, so I can do a decent job at this caretaking business.

Because it’s not going to get any easier for me — or for my spouse.

And the task at hand is for me to keep my act together, so we don’t both suffer. When I don’t keep my act together — don’t get enough rest, don’t eat right, don’t exercise, don’t manage my emotional state, don’t manage my behavior — and I just let everything go, because I’m tired of dealing with it, that’s not good. It makes everything worse for everyone involved. And then I need to pick up the pieces and patch things back together again.

If I can.

Some people have told me I need to cut my spouse loose. They told me that, back in 2007, when they were first having a big set of neurological problems. They told me I needed to leave. Get on with my life.  Put them in a home (?!). Not let their situation hold me back.

Needless to say, I did not do any of that. And I was really offended that they would suggest that as an option. As if I were the sort of person who just gives up on other people. I don’t. Especially my spouse, whom I love with all my heart, and is every bit as much a part of my life as my arms or legs or brain.

I’m not giving up. It’s not going to be easy, and none of us will get out of this alive. But for the time being, I’m sticking with it, hanging in there. and I’m putting the focus on taking care of myself, so I can do the best job possible as protector and provider for the amazing, beautiful life we have together.

That’s that. End of discussion.

Which means I need to take care of myself with routine, schedule, and doing as much as I can to keep my foundation stable. Life will throw what it will at us. It’s our choice, what we do with it. And I choose to move forward to the best of my God-given ability.

Onward…

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Author: brokenbrilliant

I am a long-term multiple (mild) Traumatic Brain Injury (mTBI or TBI) survivor who experienced assaults, falls, car accidents, sports-related injuries in the 1960s, '70s, '80s, and '90s. My last mild TBI was in 2004, but it was definitely the worst of the lot. I never received medical treatment for my injuries, some of which were sports injuries (and you have to get back in the game!), but I have been living very successfully with cognitive/behavioral (social, emotional, functional) symptoms and complications since I was a young kid. I’ve done it so well, in fact, that virtually nobody knows that I sustained those injuries… and the folks who do know, haven’t fully realized just how it’s impacted my life. It has impacted my life, however. In serious and debilitating ways. I’m coming out from behind the shields I’ve put up, in hopes of successfully addressing my own (invisible) challenges and helping others to see that sustaining a TBI is not the end of the world, and they can, in fact, live happy, fulfilled, productive lives in spite of it all.

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