Thus begins Day One of my captivity. (Brent has returned to work and Jackson to school.) I keep trying to remember there is a lesson here...perhaps God is trying to remind me to slow down? Be present in the moment? Live each moment to the fullest?
All that may be true...and I have so many things I would love to be doing right now in my home. Specifically, scrapbooking or reading one of fifteen books that are in the queue. However, I have spent the past two hours cleaning our loft. (Read: Double-edged sword...I'll feel better that it's cleaner, but I will not feel relaxed because it's not done AND I have worked my tail off.)
What would I be doing if I weren't a prisoner in my own home? Perhaps cleaning the resource room at church that I have left in shams because the day I intended on tackling it I had two all-out seizures and was drained. Perhaps I'd be at Jackson's school, volunteering in his classroom or the library (two of my favorite places to be in the world...). Yet, I'm afraid of being a burden on Jackson's teachers AND scaring the crap out of all of Jackson's friends. (I envision them all running amok, screaming "Mrs. Y. is a monster! Mrs. Y. is a zombie!" Jackson would be mortified. The only way it could be worse is if I peed myself for the first time there. Gosh, could you imagine?)
Achk, let's be honest here. I'd probably be out, spending money at Target or the commissary. Note, these are necessary evils: groceries and other household items. However, I always end up spending more than what is truly needed or required. Hey! Who would've thought that a medical condition rendering me captive would end up SAVING us money? Bonus!
Furthermore, please know, I have received MANY gracious offers from very good friends to have the capability to leave the house and have rides, etc. However, it's a bizarre feeling to lose your independence like this. Damned brain...
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