A heavy, lonely burden

There’s a certain desperate loneliness that being in the hospital has to offer. It feels so dark and gloomy and isolating.

It seems like I hit this wall with every hospital stay. Around the third day I just feel so…alone. It feels like the entire world suddenly weighs a billion pounds more, and it’s all on me to carry the extra weight.

I haven’t left the walls of this room in 3 days, and I swear it’s like they start closing in.

I’m glad my son doesn’t seem to have the same experience. I don’t know why, but he just honestly seems unbothered by the change. Maybe it’s because he isn’t feeling his best physically that he doesn’t care. Laying in a hospital bed 23 hours of the day is just what his body wants or needs.

I’m having a tough time mentally. I really do just feel alone. My husband had a migraine last night so he went to sleep as soon as the other 2 boys were in bed and that did not help how alone I was already feeling. I miss him. I miss my own bed.

The dark thoughts have creeped in pretty hard right about now. And they feel like they’re here to stay.

I wish I felt better. I wish I felt more confident. My relationships feel a million miles away. Physically and emotionally.

The majority of my people aren’t showing up for me in the ways that I need them to. and that’s hard. It’s hard when I feel so alone, so broken, and so isolated.

I don’t know when we go home, maybe tomorrow. That’s what I’m hoping for.

He seems to be feeling better this morning, he at least didn’t have any horrible coughing fits overnight that prevented him from sleeping.

I love the nurses and respiratory therapists here. They all remember us from our stay back in April. They definitely make it a more positive experience, and I’m glad I already know who most of them are.

Today is tough. It feels like the days are 50 hours long and they take an absolute eternity to pass.

I need a shower. And my bed. And a salad.

I’m sorry to be all down today. But I just really, really hate these hospital stays.