Capable to incapacitated. Overnight.

How does one go from a very capable human to a mess?

No, Seriously do you know how?

And if yes, how do you undo it?

I am very capable, I know that in my heart. More capable than most (at least I think). I can problem solve, I drive a boat, I will escape any room, I’m okay talking about most topics (as I can reason my way through them), and I can carry multiple responsibilities. 

And rationally I know, I once worked from 7-7 in a job that was anything but mundane. Never knew what would happen in the day and the chances of sitting for a stretch of 45 minutes straight were rare. It was go go go. And while doing that had two kids, had a pretty active social life, and juggled it all. Sure I was tired, but I oddly thrived. The job matched my energy.

Then I had a child with pediatric cancer. I had a whole new juggling act. And this one was 12AM-12PM type of gig. During this time, I still worked, started writing, and seized any non-hospital days with vengeance attempting to have some sort of family normalcy. Was it easy? No, but did it. I didn’t have to “will” it in any way. Just did it. 

But yet now… I can barely get from point A to point B. I can cry at a drop of a hat. I randomly become so nervous I vomit. WAIT. I know what your thinking. NO. I’m not pregnant. 

It’s so bad that I can become so crazy anxious at any time (nothing! Seriously nothing is happening) and I have to remind myself to breathe. I find myself avoiding my phone like a plague. Scared of even a text or an email. What could it possible say? And now I’m scared of my inbox that keeps piling up, even though I have combed through them to know they are all safe. I even find myself stopping and counting to 4 to ensure I’m breathing. At times I’m not too sure I am. Just got to double-check that now and then.

 If you see me you may not even notice. I do my very best to look okay, but secretly I’m just watching everything and even myself. You may catch me counting to 4, the boys caught doing that  a few times, but other than that, normal. I know because I can oddly see it all unfold. I can see myself. Only 3 to 10 feet away. And I want to scream at her to fix her hair, but I know better, she is not capable of even doing that. Waste of breath that scream would be and there is no way in saving that hair. 

And it’s scary. Like really scary. Feeling so useless and incapacitated. I’m not a fan of this girl. She sucks. She just wants to sleep. She just wants to cry. She is totally incapable. I mean she needs to remember to breathe.

So on that note…anyone have info on this therapy or even better have done it?! Looking for any intel.

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing Therapy

7.4.2020

The fourth of July. I had big plans for you.

But like everything, life laughed. It had other plans for sure, ones that included a health pandemic. 

But this day was important. 

Last fourth of July, we were given the gift of Jacob being out of the hospital (it was fleeting only 2 days) and were able to see the fireworks as a family. I can still feel the BOOMS as we sat only 100 feet away from the Macy’s 4th of July firework barge in Brooklyn Heights. I remember the sky thundering. It sounded like the end of the world. BOOM. BOOM. I remember Benno recoiling from the sound, but myself leaning deeper into it. Relishing it.

I finally had found a sound that matched the beating of my heart. BOOM BOOM BOOM. And I held Jacob who had just finished his first round of induction chemo in my arms as the world sounded like it was on the brink of the end. It was oddly comforting having the world match my inner workings. BOOM BOOM. Yes. The world is ending. I hear ya.

And then the sky lit up in purple. I’m sure it was a case of perception bias, but at the time I swore that every other firework was purple, not red, not white, not blue, but purple. 

A sea of purple.

Jacob’s favorite color.

And I had hope.

I’ve oddly carried that day with me. I have written about it on occasions. Not wanting to sound crazy I don’t tell exactly what that night meant, but it was this one night that allowed me to make it through the countless other dark, soundless nights (with the exception of the clock). I would picture the 4th of July sky, all lit up in purple. The sign for the universe that Jacob was going to be okay. I kept reading about “love and light.” Maybe this is what that means? God literally sent purple light to tell me something. Telling me that love will win.

And I clung to that for a year. That. I even kept collecting purple things. A purple marker, went with me everywhere. Needing to see that color to remember. The universe spoke. It will all be okay.

So here it was, the big day. I had plans (of course) to thank the universe. To pay it forward.  It was going to be a fundraiser. We were going to light up the sky in purple. We were going to cure Neuroblastoma so no other family would go through this pain. We were going to even plant a flag. A flag declaring the date of a cure. We were going to set a goal. We were declaring victory before we had it. Setting intentions.

Instead, however, in this COVID world, we spent the 4th of July with the closest of friends and a few late-night sparklers. It was quiet. There were no large booms. There was no explosion of purple, trust me I was looking for it. 

But I’m trying not to find meaning or maybe it is just another kind. 

 It was a different sign. A quieter one. One that begs to SLOW down rather than SPEED forward. One that says be kinder to myself. One that will attempt to accept this PTSD thing rather than continuing to fight it. 

And I am going to SLOW down. I am going to stop trying to solve for a bit. Maybe be a bit more selfish. Maybe be a bit less about solving the world’s problems. Seems like an odd sign to get from the universe, but maybe the sign is to focus on my kids and husband and self for a bit.

So thank you Nantucket. We will be back. 

I want that too.

Maybe it’s strategic. 

Just enough space to watch from a far, but still close enough to strike. Never more than ten feet away. I can get there in a second. 

I am ready to pounce. 

I didn’t come up with this theory. I can’t take credit. I’ve heard it now from multiple people close to me including Steve. That maybe my body doesn’t know how to stop being in attack mode. My adrenal glands still on fire. Still putting out fires. Still fighting. And I can’t stop it. 

My body doesn’t know how to stop. Stress producing hormones in overdrive.

It makes sense this theory. I have spent the last 2 years fighting for lives. I have spent the last two years waking up to an all-consuming nightmare. And I only know how to fight. I only know how to function when the boat is sinking. When the boat is upright I just sit there looking for holes.

And maybe that is the right way to be given my luck. There is no denying that tomorrow is not promised. Fear that if I let go, something will go awry and I will be back to the “fall.” But this is no way to live.

I tell Steve all of this. That I can’t go back to living life as I’m too scared it will disappear again. He understands what I’m saying, but he can’t relate. For that exact same fear, he enjoys every second. For that exact same reason, he allows no space. He stands right in the now. 

And that makes complete sense too.

That sounds like a better plan too.

I want that too.

3ft-10ft

Three feet. Ten feet tops. That’s about the length it feels.

It is a strange thing to explain. How does one explain the length between yourself and well….yourself? But that is about the distance between the experiences. 

Three to ten.

It’s like a movie. Yes. A movie.

 I watch this movie (to be fair its the only one on) but it’s a good one. Hands down, this is a crowd-pleaser. This movie is fabulous. I can’t deny that. A true redemption story of love. And when I doubt if my interpretation is correct and not biased, I only need to look at the characters for confirmation. Yes, this is a good movie. All the characters are living their dreams. They overcame huge obstacles. All the characters are so alive and thriving. Jacob, Steve, and Benno are alive and living life to its fullest.

We are in Nantucket. 

For those who may recall, Nantucket was the place that Benno fixated on when we spent our summer last year in the hospital instead of as planned, traveling by sea. Nantucket. The place that for some freaking reason Benno was fixated on and inconsolable that we would not go. It was an odd fixation. He had never been there (we had never been there), but THIS is what Benno would cry about. How his summer was ruined because he can’t go to Nantucket. 

And I recall how I furious I was that he could yell and cry about this. Fucking Nantucket! How he would use his limited time with me when home from the hospital with Jacob to cry about Nantucket.

And here we are.

I get it Benno. It is beautiful. This is the best set ever. Every movie should be filmed here. It is truly a Brody dream. A boaters town with gorgeous sunsets, good people and food. And we sailed here! Just like we always dreamed and as I write this my boys are fast asleep on the boat. Our safe haven.

It honestly doesn’t get more perfect.

It doesn’t.

I know because I’m watching it. It is perfect. One could question if the director went too over the top. The film is maybe too beautiful to be believed.

The only issue is I’m not feeling it nor living it.

I am three to ten feet away.

Like a movie its a passive user experience. Nope. Wrong word. Passive would infer no emotions. There are plenty of emotions as I watch, but they don’t seem correct nor correlate with the show in front of my eyes. It’s narrative quite different. And I think the discord between the emotions is what frustrates me most. It’s hard to reconcile, especially when the space between the “me watching” and the “me doing” collapses. 

It has happened. I have been one. 

Like when we were in a sinking boat, or even yesterday there was one. Right for a minute, I was right there. I was scooting down main street with Jacob’s arms wrapped around me on our scooter as I navigated the cobblestone streets. The two of us saying “bumpity bump.” That I felt. Not just saw. It was amazing.

But the moments are fleeting and few.

Then back. Three to ten feet.

And it’s strange (to say the least). I oddly wish I had this experience before. It would have been welcomed in the hospital. I would have welcomed the distance. Unfortunately, the now was consuming and I felt every minute, every painful minute. But now this disassociation between experience and emotion is hurtful. Instead of living the movie and feeling joy, I see it with a weight on my chest. 

I watch the movie. I watch my life. 

Three to ten feet away.

F* YOU XXX

​Posting this to remember and for my fellow warriors, educators. I sent this email. I am XXX out all information that would identify the humans behind it. Not because people like this deserve kindness, but because there is an innocent and really awesome child who is the real victim behind it.

XXX,

I never intended to email you and will remove you immediately from any further publications from MTG. I was very taken aback by your email. A lot has happened over the last years. Sounds like great things for XXX. I was about to publish this to my blog (www.jacobbrody.blog) but stopped myself (not out of fear of litigation), but rather out of love for XXX.

But you should read it for sure. You should read all of it and LISTEN to yourself for a bit. I wish nothing but the best for your son, but you are a plague on children and society.

D​on’t you dare ever come near me or my family or any of the children (nor their families) that you label as “sociopaths.” ​

————–

The post below is dedicated to the moms that will bulldoze and hurt any child or adult in their path to “success.”  You are outnumbered and we refuse to be silenced anymore.

Sincerely,

Educators around the world.

——————————————–

Dear XXX of the world,

You need to stop. You need to take a deep breath and think about your words and actions. You also need to take accountability and it starts here today. This behavior will not go unchecked.

It ends now.

It starts with all of you reading this (especially you cancer moms who truly know what hardships are). It also starts with all the educators who now are the supermajority of my readership) who are SICK of this narrative. Sick of these parents who kill community and take up 99% of our time. So this is for you educators who love children and sometimes have to say hard things to do right by that child. Educators who are bullied by parents who hold power and money over them. It stops here.

So educators and cancer moms see the email below.  This email was prompted by a mass email from Mind the Gap. Seriously, a mass email about a program to help young adults. And one month later…XXX decides to reply (a bit scary that she sat on this reply for a month). If I go missing…you know where to look!

Classy right?

Super classy. 

And right here you have it. STOP it XXX. STOP blaming others. Stop blaming the “other kids.” And who calls children “junior sociopaths?” Wait…I know. Do you?:) 

And you readers may be thinking… This is the most extreme thing you have ever seen. This must be a XXX thing. But no! This is not unheard of at all. Okay wait to be fair, the use of a “c” word is unheard of, but I guess that’s just how XXX rolls. She is one classy “c”. But teachers receiving bullying emails of this tone are not unheard of. I’ve seen Kindergarten teachers get emails like this. Yes. Kindergarten teachers!

This behavior is not alright and I’m calling it out. So world here it is. This is a peek behind the curtain of private schools. This is how some women behave when ​they​ hear something that we don’t like, especially about our children and this was over SIX years ago. That is the scariest part. This is over six years ago. This woman is bat shit crazy.

The lesson here… Parents the next time a coach, a teacher, an administrator tells you that they are worried about their child, just listen. You don’t need to agree and that is why there are choices in schools and settings. But you also don’t need to be XXX.

And guess what XXX! We have more in common than you know. I get you. I don’t like hearing bad news either, especially about my children. I’ve gotten really bad news. One that could actually “ruin” a life. And if you could believe it, I’m not referring to the experience you and I both went through with private schools. ​​I also got hard news about my child from the exact same school. It wasn’t a fit for him either.

So XXX, when I was in your exact shoes with my own child… Did I cry? Yes. Was I frustrated? Yes. Did I feel a loss? Yes. Did I feel like the experience my child was having in school did not jive with the potential I knew he had? Yes. Did I feel like he had a weak teacher one year? Yes.

Now did I write to the teacher / administrator and call her a “cunt?” NO.

So XXX. FUCK YOU.

God that feels good. I have been waiting my entire career to say that.

FUCK YOU XXX and all the other XXXS that are hurting teachers out there.

You are bullies.

You are what is wrong with the world.

If you think we educators get off on hurting kids, you are truly crazy (or named XXX). And if anything, we have all the incentive in the world to NOT tell you if your child is not thriving. We can keep your money at your child’s expense. It’s hard to replace the kids that we lose! That is lost capital. But, no. That is not what educators do, no child’s happiness is worth that. We are there for your children and sometimes there are hard times. 

And then there are good times! I am thrilled to hear that your child is happy and thriving! That is awesome. He found the right setting.

My child did too. He’s so happy. Thanks for asking.

Sincerely,

Abby Brody​ and all the teachers who have had to work with you​

Educators need to get some balls

I’m not envious of my peers. Hell no. I say a little prayer every morning. 

Thank you God for not having me in my old job at this time. Truly I thank you. AMEN!

I think that would put me over the edge! Yep. I would definitely be going crazy licking glue in the Kindergarten classrooms as I cry over how in the hell one is to pull this thing off?! How do you pull of a task destined for disaster?!

 My heart brakes for my fellow educators. You cannot WIN here. Nope. That has been my advice to them when they call. Accept that fact when waking up and do the best you can. Not that there was ever winning before, but now you are stuck between a rock and a hard place. I’ve spoken to a few. So upset by the onslaught from every corner. No summer respite to be had. Constant anxiety and stress. One of my favorite educators put it best.

“It is like swimming blindfolded in shark-infested waters.” 

Educators are being attacked from all sides, especially private school educators. They not only have to deal with uncertainty and somehow pulling off a “miracle” (more on that below), but they also have to deal with parents who are scared, financially strapped, and angry. Sure, the public school parent is annoyed but the private school parent who pays for this education is the shark in those waters!

Oh there is that chill again. I’ve met those sharks…many of them, but I never was blindfolded swimming among them.

This is pure torture for educators who happen to be ALL lovely people. I say that with conviction. These are people who have chosen to devote their lives to children. They will never get that second home. They will never retire with financial security, they have chosen a path of service. They are used to being there for you and now some of you ask them to do the impossible. “Give me my money back.” And you want to KNOW what the fall looks like, because you paid for it and need to make decisions (like should I renew my lease?!). I get it…these are real concerns. But they don’t have Crystal balls nor can many give money back. They don’t have the funds that you think they do.

But trust me they wish they knew and they wish they could give you your money back. But they don’t and can’t. So stop torturing them.

Just for a second think of all the logistics, they are dealing with. Beyond the ridiculous miracle they are tasked with (more on that below), they have pull this miracle off logistically with keeping within the “guidelines” (that change daily!). So if a school goes to a week on/week off schedule, what happens for the faculty member whose kids are on a different schedule?! Do they leave their own kids home to fend for themselves?!

So if you have a minute, send a quick note of appreciation to your school administration and stop attacking over questions about what the fall will look like or your money (that they DON’T have anymore- they most likely spent these last few months to stay afloat and pivot to onine). 

Or…maybe you should start attacking…but not about that stuff, about the RIDICULOUSNESS OF THE ENTIRE CONVERSATION.

School reopening is all based on economics, not children’s (nor faculty) safety. Can we all say that aloud? Can we?! Or am I the only educator who is not tied to an institution right now that has the ability to?

And trust me as a parent, I want school open. More than you will ever understand. I’ve been doing this for MUCH longer than you. I need my kids to return to school, but I’m also a realist and a researcher. I don’t believe in “plans.” I believe in science.

We can say whatever we want to make ourselves feel better, but these last weeks have proven that it will be the children that will spread this virus. Don’t believe me…follow the sunbelt’s data. It’s the KIDS who have caused the spikes. Schools will be the ultimate incubators and if our 20-year-olds can’t social distance, who in the hell thinks a 6-year-old can?

And even with the REAL data coming from the South, Universities continue to push forward…not because they are looking out for our youth, nope. This is about the bottom line. They have to. If they don’t open, they could close forever and the cash in online education isn’t as good as in person.

My favorite are the “new rules” on University campuses. (I’m laughing just writing this!). How students will sign a pledge to socially distance and wear masks at all times on campus. How they will have some live classes (we all know this is BS). The one thing that hasn’t gotten the large media attention, is that the professors aren’t going to show. Do you blame them?! And these are tenured faculty…good luck getting them there. Oh and there will be no “parties” allowed on campus. That is my favorite piece all of the universities are throwing in. Oh okay University, have you ever met your students?! good luck on that one.

University openings will be the beginning of a very serious health crisis.

As Scott Galloway so well put:

Every university effectively falls to the highest common denominator of infection rates. Every university catalog brags that their student body represents all 50 states and 20/30/40+ countries. This means every large university will be welcoming thousands of people from regions that have some of the greatest infection rates globally. After 12 weeks together, those students will travel back to all 50 states, and international students to the 4 corners of the earth. What. Are. We. Thinking?

So I’m calling it now.

It will be a ROUGH fall.

Schools will open as they are forced to for the bottom line. Public will be forced to open for child care and private will follow. And then they will close and we will all be isolated for months to break the very large surged they created.

It is frustrating as a country that we can’t get this right. Let’s get infections down before we talk about schools. But…I also get the need. We all want schools open, but this will be one of the BIGGEST mistakes in our history (mark my words).

So if you want to be angry at your school. Be angry at the CONVERSATION not the logistics. Be angry that they aren’t the school with the balls to have the hard conversations. (Shout out to CA state schools who do have these balls). Be angry that the educators aren’t using their EDUCATION to make informed decisions but instead are looking towards public opinion and our governmental leaders who too are putting the needs of the economy first. Be angry that they can’t be the school to say that socially distancing high school students is impossible and keeping masks on second graders is beyond anyone’s pay grade. Be angry that we are talking about this. Be angry that you keep hearing about how they will clean classrooms regularly and your children will be in pods, instead of not admitting that none of this has any efficacy of working. Be angry that they are looking at options 1-5, when they should spend their time and resources on only ONE option (distant) until we have this virus under control (which we don’t). Be angry that your money is being spent towards nonsense.

And I get the want and NEED. Educators want to open. This one too. Mind the Gap wanted to open in person too. We would make more money on that program. Our demand would be higher. Kids don’t want to be home. They want to party! But we are data-informed educators and that is not the data-informed choice. We do not intend to harm society but intend to solve issues. We want to help lift the burden on society with our crisis in higher education, not add to it.

Educators, join us! It is not an easy line to take. No one likes it. But we have a moral imperative as educators. We are public servants. We are not servants to the government nor to parents. We are servants to the world.

START ACTING LIKE IT!

It wasn’t me

But I get the accusation.

“Look now Jacob is just like every other kid! No school for them either!” “ Jacob will be as disadvantaged as other kids this fall.” “No summer camp envy now! None of our kids are going” “Other kids will also be behind in language so entering Avenues won’t be as difficult for Jacob.” 

And there is work too. “Abby, everyone is talking about gap years!” “People are questioning the value of their college experience.” 

Honestly, the list goes on.

However, when the newest shoe dropped, even Steve is now questioning me. 

“Abby, did you do all of this to get out of running the marathon?”

And while I’m not devastated by any means…(maybe an inside cheer happened…okay an outside one did), I am sad about the missing the opportunity to raise money for kids with cancer. 

But I swear I did not cause COVID. I am not behind it.

I promise. So instead of running 26 miles. I plan on doing some things 26x. 

I will drink 26 bottles of wine.

I will read 26 books.

I will smoke 26 different blends of weed.

I will be embracing training, just my way. The COVID way. But now I need to figure out a way to do that AND raise money for cancer as that is still needed. Welcoming any ideas! 

But just to set the record straight. NO I DID NOT START COVID to get out of the marathon, but I understand why those who know me could think that way;) 

Sink to swim.

I had a day without anxiety. I did! I had a whole day! All it took was a coast guard rescue. 

Yes, a real coast guard rescue. And instead of anxiety, I was filled with laughter. Oddly this was hysterical to me as we slowly sank into the sea.

We had a bit of an adventure, this I like. Adventure makes me feel alive and for some reason it takes a REAL adventure to allow me to be in the “now” recently.  We boated to Block Island and then took a small boat with the kids and my two adult cousins to a small strip of beach. In true adventure spirit, we went on a hike with the kids and discovered a seagull hatchery. Babies everywhere and angry mamas too. It was amazing. Look at the view at the end of our hike.

On the way back…we ran in a bit of trouble. First, the engine was overheating, but Steve felt confident that we could make it back in time, but then a toe felt wet. Then an ankle and before we knew it the kids were up to their knees in water.

We were definitely sinking.

We immediately threw the heaviest of the lot out of the boat to slow the sink. Benno (rightfully so) started to get a bit nervous. “Are we going to die?” “ Are we sinking?” Jacob was oddly quiet, maybe too scared to talk. It was hard to say we weren’t sinking as it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that the boat was taking on water. Water in boat = sinking.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop laughing. I couldn’t stop. 

This didn’t scare me. I knew we could swim and the boys have life jackets. I just kept laughing. Look at this. We beat cancer, but here we are in a sinking ship- perfect! 

Steve on the other hand was not laughing, until I think he saw how happy the whole debacle made me. And then we both laughed. Here we are world, sinking. Here is how the Brodys live, on the brink of danger all the time. 

And it was gone. The anxiety vanished. Right then and there. I felt completely safe and fine as we took on water in the ocean with my two young children. 

The coast guard got us before the kids were completely soaked and we got to ride a coast guard boat! And like the man he has become, Benno rose to the occasion. He started laughing too and here he was on a coast guard ship! COOL.

(Special shout out to my cousins who were troopers through it all.)

And sharing this. When we were radioing in for help. We called out to Boat US which we are members to come rescue us. No answer. This was INEXCUSABLE to Benno.

Again, pure laughter. No anxiety!

I guess in life, you got to sink before you can swim!

Benjamin

Yesterday Benno turned 9. Last year his birthday was at NYU hospital. There were no presents from his parents. There was no party with friends. There was just family and an attempt to smile through it all. Jacob had just been diagnosed days before.

The hospital staff allowed us to go outside on a balcony and celebrate. And then it passed, like any other day. 

And looking at Benno today, it is remarkable the transformation. It hasn’t been an ordinary year and by no means has it been an ordinary year of growth. He may be turning 9, but he is way beyond his years. His empathy, his sense of self challenged every day this past year.

Prior to turning 8, our world revolved around Benno. We spent our days and nights concerned about his phobias, obsessed with his lack of nutrition, etc. But that all ended on his 8th birthday. Benno spent 8 having to fend for himself in new ways. He didn’t have the overflow of attention from adults even with a new phobia added to his list, cancer. Often dealing with his anxiety on his own and sometimes not seeing his mom for days who was living with his brother at a hospital 

Looking at these pictures, I wish I could whisper to Steve and I and tell them that not only would Benno survive this year, but would come out better, a new person, he calls this person “Benjamin.” 

So world let me tell you about Benjamin. 

He turned 9 yesterday and he will run the world by 13. He is beyond articulate. He has an opinion on everything and often is right. Painfully right. He will tell you how it is. But, he is also the greatest friend. When Jacob lost his mask the other day when they were playing outside with others, he took his off immediately for his brother. When Jacob screams and goes nuts, Benno will often raise his hand “I got this!” and will take the first attempt to calm Jacob’s nerves. And honestly, he has the better results than his parents.

He is a kid that randomly forwarded me this email after overhearing my conversation with Steve that I want to reach more than the 1% with Mind the Gap. He took it upon himself to create a Mind the Gap digital sign in his roblox game and then wrote the customer care to try and learn more. All of this without my knowledge. Trying to lighten my load. Always trying to lighten my load.

And this Benjamin isn’t afraid of much. 2 years ago I would battle to get Benno on a beach. He hated the feel of the sand, he was scared of the water. If someone told me at NYU hospital that day, that a year from now your son would spend his birthday SURFING, I would have laughed in their face. SURFING?! Benno doesn’t like the beach and is petrified of the ocean.

But Benjamin does.

Very proud of my boy. Happy birthday my love. You have always had incredible power.

 You are the sun. You are the light. In this year, you learned how to control your power and use it for good. To bring light to all in this world. You give me hope. Your light got our family through the darkness. 

Therapy it is.

Therapy it is.

I’m not not a fan of therapy, I do believe it has merit and have seen results in the past, but I hate the long haul of it. I always like the quickest way out. I would rather the extreme and quick method. Can I just take some ayahuasca, live on a commune for a month and return a new person?  Is there a way to get all the flashbacks and anxiety out through a good scary acid trip? Let me relive it once and put it all aside? Seriously this has huge appeal. But this whole mother with job responsibilities keeps getting in the way.

Sigh.

Because living like this and “working through it” is wasting time. TIME. The most precious asset. You know the freaking clock. Back to that clock. Tic. Toc. I may have left that hospital room, but I still hear that clock. The clock that I stared at and was convinced never moved night after night, keeping my family captive by its hands.

And I don’t have the time for this. I also don’t have the heart for this. I need to be able to enjoy this time. We need this so badly. I can’t do this to Steve either who is ready to launch forward into life, only pulled back by me. Watching him this summer has been my biggest joy. Seeing him enjoy the boys with all his heart and soul. Seeing him relish these summer nights. I try and cover the anxiety to not dampen his joy, but like the best friend he is, he is there for me through this too. But, I wish he didn’t have to.

AND WHY NOW?! 

Seriously. Sure I had depression spouts during these last few years and of course anxiety, but it all had a reason, I was looking straight at it, living in a mother’s nightmare. And now, it just lives in my body, a relic of the past. Unsure where to go. Unsure how to let go. Or is it just preparing for the next blow? My mind can’t stop thinking…between Steve and Jacob’s cancer we had 6 months. Is my body just ready for the next shoe to drop? Is it just preparing? 

I try and stop the anxiety with pure reason. But like parents, it doesn’t listen to reason. Nope. Just fear.  

But I write the following reason to remember it later.

  • We are living on the boat, adventuring! Our family’s happy place
  • Jacob is doing great and is happy
  • Benno is FANTASTIC (another post for another time)
  • Steve has never been happier
  • Black Lives are getting the attention it deserves (another post for another time)
  • Education is in the spotlight getting its day of reckoning (hello unsustainable tuitions?!). This will further change

Don’t believe it, Abby, look at the pics! Every night this view for sunset in Montauk.

But there is such grief in those eyes. Grief. Holding back tears, even in the happiest place on earth.

So therapy it is.