My Mind

I am a worrier by nature and I hate it. At 47 I have finally learned that this is part of my make-up. I usually have two times a year (specifically) when it gets really bad which is right before school starts and also right after the new year. I can recognize it now. It doesn't make it less hard per se, but it is something I can recognize and usually breathe through with some self talk.

A recent worry I have had (not as intense as those times I mentioned) is that I am becoming my Nana. I LOVED my Nana but I also watched her leave me bit-by-bit long before she left this earth. She had dementia and it was hard. Really hard. And perhaps I will need to revisit that and unpack that whole experience later but for now I will just say that lately I feel forgetful or in a fog and I have been thinking, "I CAN'T have this happen to me. I am too young. My children are too young." 

Early this morning I finally said something to Jeff about it and he said that perhaps I should talk to my doctor and I decided that that was what I would do and just saying it felt better- but also scary at the same time. What if this was happening to me? What if it is? Saying out loud that I would look into it and it was a feeling that was "real" felt like a huge weight lifted- a first step.

I got in my car for my Saturday Daddy-Daughter run and as I was driving to my destination and thinking about all of this, I had NPR on. Oddly enough the discussion on my short drive was about long haul Covid patients. Some are  experiencing difficulty with organs and others are suffering cognitively long after they had Covid. Immediately my brain tuned in and heard this message and I do believe that it was a message from the Universe (when I say that I am talking about God, Andrew, the Jonasens, Auntie and everyone who I talk to through my window- another thing I'll get to). 

The more I thought about it, the more I thought maybe what I'm feeling isn't dementia- maybe this is related to Covid. When I got Covid about a year ago it hit me hard. I didn't feel terribly sick but I felt completely zapped of all energy. I recall having to go back to work after a week and when I was standing, I had the strong urge to sit. When I was sitting, I had the strong urge to lay down. I ended up taking another full week off (bad but I didn't really have a choice and knew I needed it). When I did go back I was still exhausted and now that I think about it, I don't think my energy really has returned to what it was. I chalked it up to teaching. To being a mom. To life. To getting older.

Prior to Covid I ran regularly and felt I got things done. I know I work far too much for my classroom after school but I still had energy for my family, to straighten my house, to see friends... After Covid I just had no energy. My mileage went WAY down (it still is) and on weekends I find myself getting up for my run (good for my brain) and then sitting and napping the rest of the day away. I rarely want to go out, or clean, or be productive at all but I feel incredibly off and depressed when I don't.

So maybe this is what it is. Maybe this fog isn't dementia but me never fulling coming back after Covid- maybe it's me getting older. I don't know. The thought of it being Covid related though (rather than dementia) made me feel SO much better.

On my run with dad I shared this story with him and he too felt Covid seemed perhaps the culprit and assured me it's normal to lose some memory- he is! I reminded him he's 30 years older than I am. I talked to my mom about it too. Sharing it with 3 of my closest people helped too. Shouldering worry- helps.

So for today I have decided that those feelings I am feeling are real. They are a fog and it's not just in my head. I have decided that the universe is telling me not to worry about dementia just yet and it is more likely I am still dealing with the Covid symptoms that never did quite go away. I have decided that I am ok. That I can still follow up with a doctor. That I can exhale that worry out my window and send it to the heavens along with the rest of my love and light.

I am OK.

Clearing out the mud.

I've always written in my head.

I think I've done this since a young age~ playing out my days like a movie in my head~ narrating my story and later in diaries and letters to my dear Grandpa Jonasen. My writings saved me when I lost my Andrew- writing felt like an exhale- and so here I am to exhale and learn from it.

Recently I have felt the pull to start writing my thoughts in hopes I can clear up the muddy and hear what the Universe-God-Love is trying to tell me. This has all been swimming in my head and now is the time to root them on paper (or in this case- another blog).

I imagine that someday my children will stumble across these life learnings because I have shared with them or they've stumbled on them in their own time. I also know when that happens it will be the right time and space.

And so it's time for me to write and sort through some things. To make sense of chaos. To Listen. To Learn. Me.