I questioned myself multiple times about whether I should create my weekly vlog this week, I searched the corners of my mind when it came to answering my own doubts. Should I talk and write about this week? Should I just gloss over it? After all with blogging and vlogging it would be ever so easy not to publish the tough times. Those situations where finding the correct vocabulary, sentence structure, tact and ease becomes near impossible when trying to convey the emotions bubbling deep inside of you. Those emotions threaten to overflow out onto the keyboard as I write a sentence and swiftly delete it, or in front of the camera as I pause for a moment in pursuit of that word I hope will transmit my reality and thoughts in an accurate manner. However, I'm safe in the knowledge that it won't happen, which is where my frustration lies. I can't shake the strong exterior, I'm unable to break down the wall I've unintentionally built and translate those feelings into some kind of a communicative form. Not just via my blog and vlog but also to friends and family.
Upon hearing unfortunate news or in a distressing setting I don't react as those close by expect me to. It's almost as if I step away and can see my mind processing the information. I'll ask questions that don't seem to occur to anyone else to inquire about. In most cases I will take complete charge of the situation, arranging practicalities, making tea and reassuring those around me. Emotions will take a while to surface, and when they do, it is once I'm alone, I suppose it's once I've stopped.
I'll give myself a moment. A brief period of overwhelming uncertainty before I dry my eyes, decide what my plan of action is and get on with things. This is just how I am and how I have always been. I won't try to identify those thoughts and feelings, the time is far too fleeting for that. I just seem to push them away, I couldn't even tell you if I push them back into the darkest corners of my mind or if they just vanish in a haze of pulling myself together. I'm sure this isn't healthy and wouldn't recommend it to anyone.
This week has been unexpected in it's sadness, the unpredictability of each hour, never mind each day has tainted every interaction each family member has had with the outside world. The doubtfulness and inconclusiveness to the week only serves to draw more worry, bewilderment and confusion to the days that lie ahead.
The family is in limbo, waiting, watching the clock tick, lingering next to the phone. Dreading the tragic news we have been told to expect, quietly wishing that somehow, that tiny slither of hope we were given yesterday afternoon may grow into something more. Not daring to talk about it in case we jinx it, in case we come crashing down to earth with a resounding thud much worse than the one that bruised us just a few days ago.
But there is a teeny tiny spark of hope.
May my weekly round up next week be full of celebration, joy, love, and miracles, for now we will continue to wait.