The stress in our house is beyond high. My husband and I are full of it. Stress is your body’s way of responding to any kind of demand or threat. When you sense danger—whether it’s real or imagined—the body’s defenses kick into high gear in a rapid, automatic process known as the “fight-or-flight” reaction or the “stress response.” The stress response is the body’s way of protecting you. Stress symptoms can affect your body, your thoughts and feelings, and your behavior. As today starts, this is where we are at.
And I know why.
I was the lynchpin of the family. The head ruler of the house. I knew who was where, who ate what, whose clothes needed ironing, where the cat was, where we were this weekend, and what cereal we needed from Tesco. Everything came through me. With this mechanism in place, we all knew where were we and what roles we played to make the family dynamic unique to us. My ability to be strong and resilient had it’s natural stage here, and my lovely family respected and valued it. My husband worked away most of the time before COVID, so I was the main caregiver in the home, and the organizing and structure were stamped with my initials.
Brest cancer, then chemotherapy have sabotaged and broken this machine. She no longer whirrs away competently. Our family have lost the beating heart of our home. In its place is a someone who looks similar, says similar things, but has not got the fierce will and skill she once had. She can’t even get her words out now in any sensible order. She can’t put the bins out without puffing for breath. She can’t plan meals the way she used to as nausea gets in the way of her appetite. She doesn’t iron for hours and clear the basket. She doesn’t make roast dinner on a Sunday, and then two other meals to cover her absence through work for the following two nights. She doesn’t drink wine and relax into the weekend ahead. She doesn’t ask about homework. She doesn’t listen (really listen) anymore to what anyone has to say. She dreads the noise of the family and the loud chatter in the kitchen. She recoils from affection and touch. She feels she is a burden and hides when she can. She feels so overwhelmed with the fear of dying she can’t enjoy any happy or joyful moment. She feels the sun but can’t let it warm her. She feels angry she can’t run for miles. She is anxious and scared and has no control over anything. She is grieving.
So. This is why our family are in crisis and cannot cope with the stress we are consumed by. I worked through this with my therapist. It comes into stark clear view – I am amazed I have not seen this before. It is so obvious. I have changed and took the family with me.
We need to work with what we have got, to ensure we come through this together the same way we went in – as a family of 5 who love and care deeply for each other. We will all change – that is going to happen. Cancer and it’s bloody treatment plan change everyone. How can I find a way of accepting the original model of our family machine is not working the way she used to? This broken, damaged, corroded machine is out of service currently. But that doesn’t mean she can’t be fixed, cleaned, and cared for does it? She could come back to life, restored to her previous glory and kick back into life stronger and smarter than before.
I share some of my thinking with my husband when the kids are at school. I am crying as I am trying to explain that the stress needs to stop and we need to approach this differently. We are a good couple at bolting down together and getting our thinking aligned. We manage it today and after this conversation this morning we both relax a little into our day which was packed full for the pair of us.
Sadly, we got news of my mother-in-law being quite unwell, so the day was concerned for her and as my husband cannot see her – as she has an infection – he was worried all day and kept in touch with his Mum and his lovely sister for progress. He is desperate to see her, but can’t risk bringing anything back to me as my immune system is low at the moment. Regular updates helped and we FaceTime a few times a day too. Trying not to let this added worry reignite the stress we are trying to move away from – we do a good job at staying level as we both work.
I am waiting for a client to come online – it’s about 13:45pm, and I go looking for the cat. Mr Boo always cheers me up. I knew where he would be – he likes to sleep under the cover of the rattan garden furniture. So I walk towards the gazebo, lifting up the cover. No cat. I can hear him though. He is making a low growling noise, the noise he makes when he tries to catch a bird. Pulling back the cover completely, he is sitting under the table eyes as wide as saucers. His pupils are black and he is staring at something. I move to look – thinking he has been mousing again. I scream. He is looking at a snake. Mesmerized by the curling movements of the creature. I scream for my husband, grab the cat and the little slimy fellow slithers away from me and udder the chairs.
OK – this was only a grass snake and we were not in any danger at all! But I share this with you for a reason. I message my best friend in Blackpool, sharing my day. She has been brilliant and has a real skill at saying what I need to hear. I can give her a few feelings and she replies with wise words and a whole lot of ‘give no f***s’, attached to them. Genius! She is funny and she is smart and I miss her. I cannot see her, and this hurts me like mad. Anyway. She gets the snake story and within an hour or so messages me. ‘Mate – snakes in the garden mean a re-birth’. snake symbolism is letting you know that transformation is now in progress. In other words, you will be shedding old skin and emotions and transforming them into something bigger and better.
Told you she was wise! I really needed to hear this today. She installed in me some self-belief – that I will get through this – that the machine will kick back into life again – and order will be restored. Thanks mate xxx