1-27-25
Today is the first official day of my leave of absence, when everyone else is at school, and I’m not. This morning I didn’t have to get up at a certain time, didn’t have to rush Trent through breakfast so I could drop him off and get to school. The first day of this new chapter.
So why? Why did I decide to take a leave of absence?
2018 - Trent’s first stroke
2019 - Trent’s second stroke
2020 - pandemic
2021 - packing up our house that he lived in for more than 25 years, selling that house, touring 35+ houses, and coordinating a move to a new house
2022 - Trent’s third stroke
2023 - We both had Covid for the first time. He was in the hospital for 3 weeks followed by rehab for another 3.
2024 - My father died and I helped my mother handle his estate, her estate, and plan a funeral.
All the while I have been working full time as a teacher. I don’t say this to get pity, but this has been my reality. I manage everything having to do with Trent’s care - appointments, medication, insurance, therapies, etc. If you’ve ever dealt with the medical business, you may know that one phone call can last an hour and can also lead to another phone call and another.
In short, as the years have gone by, I became burnt out. There have been many days when I didn’t think I could go on because I was too tired, sad, scared, lonely, but I would force myself to get up and fulfill my responsibilities. Because I am a caregiver, for everyone else but myself.
When my father died last spring and I started helping my mom with all she needed plus finishing up a school year, looking back, I don’t know how I got through the end of the school year. Each day it felt too exhausting to even take a step, but I forced myself through, thinking that the upcoming summer vacation would be the solution to rest and recharge.
What I found was that wasn't enough time. Things were always coming up that needed to be addressed - going to help my mom once a week, bringing Trent to multiple doctor appointments because of a leg injury that required me to add wound care to my list of nursing requirements…
There are times when the sink is so full of dishes or the laundry is piled up, and it would take just minutes to put them away, but I just cannot make myself do it. It’s one thing too many. I try to avoid people I know because I don’t know how to answer the question, “how is Trent doing?” Now my whole life is consumed with caregiving, so what do I even have to offer people? I have more in common with people in their 70s and 80s than I do my peers, and I feel like I don’t even know how to have a conversation anymore that’s not about Trent’s health or caregiving.
I have lost myself. How did I let it get this far? Part of it is because I expect myself to be able to do it all. Always trying to be the best at what I’m doing, I have given 200% over the last six years.
I am weary. That’s how I describe it. It’s beyond tired, beyond exhausted. Weariness that each new day will bring the same and/or who knows what else? Struggling to put one foot in front of the other to get through a school day, church, grocery shopping, etc.
Starting this school year, I was struggling. My temper was short, I knew I wasn’t my best. I love my students so much, but I didn’t have it in me to be the best I could be for them.
My therapist wondered about a leave of absence. It has been very challenging coming to accept that I cannot do it all at this current pace. And even more challenging admitting it to other people. I am scared of the openness of the next several months, the lack of structure, the lack of plans. I am scared I will be lonely even though I crave time alone.
My hope is that I can rediscover Nikki. I don't know what that looks like anymore, but I want to chronicle this time as I work through what I want the rest of my life to look like. How do I live each day, not just exist?
I don't have the answers right now, but I’ll keep you posted. Thanks for reading.
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