Hospital day. Broken and completely lost

I’m nothing, just a small lamb…

Not alone, Mr T is here and I have my coffee. Early morning on the bus again. Back over the sea and to the hospital. Again…

Trying so hard… God is so big. World is so narrow and all I have is my backpack of learned behaviours and responses. And. My faith and a longing to do the right thing. Though I work to free myself from wrotten threads. The PTSD. I’m trying to hear and follow your voice in the murmur.

Every time that I stand here between buses going back and forth to the hospital I wish my reason for waiting at the station is that I’m waiting for a train that will take us to the mountains up north. As far up in Sweden as we can get. 24 hours at a window where the landscape outside changes by each passing hour until we see herds of reindeer moving outside. And mountains as high that its peaks are covered in snow

Mr Torbjörn, the human anchor.
A bit early, so we waited outside in the morning light to enter the hospital.

There’s so much pain. Caused by the awful and tangled threads I mentioned above. They intrude and cause emotional knots that physically hurts.

This is what a crushed mom looks like

I had to excuse myself in the middle of the family meeting concerning one of our young ones. I couldn’t do anything more. Help…

I left the room. My knees gave way and I sat on the floor with my back to the wall and just cried… someone gave me a cuppa coffee and I laid on some sofa, in another room, for the next hour whilst Mr Torbjörn did the rest of the talking and thinking.

Friday

I’m outta here. Acute juvenile dementia. Brain meltdown…