So Much to Live For

It’s funny. I spent so many years crying to God for Him to just kill me. Put me out my misery. No more Ankylosing spondylitis. Just peace and rest. But He didn’t.

Yesterday, a friend sent me a message about the high school my children’s father went to. The phone caller and my friend’s husband and my husband had all been at the same boarding school- the caller was senior to them. The caller asked my friend’s husband how she and their children are, then told him to cherish them, as more than a half of them (He said 70%) who had been at that boarding school were divorced.

There is something about their boarding school that also made them unable to be husbands in the full sense of the word. And he isn’t exaggerating. When my children’s father used to tell me about his ex school WhatsApp conversations, he’d mention another family that had broken up. Some, couples we’d visited together, people I’d come to love. It was awful!

That school is cursed. And include my ‘ SDA’ in law who was also there and has been divorced twice now.

That school did not create men. It created big egos and fragile pride. It created men who boast of their team exploits but can’t boast about their own wives and the sacrifices and work they do for their families because they do not SEE their wives. (Something my friend has noticed about her husband.) This is BAD. They wept and mourned when part of the school burnt down. Now I wish it had entirely burnt down. That school raised a generation of heart shredders.

Even the last person from the high school that I knew who died, died in suspicious circumstances. Questions around his infidelity and MAYBE his wife hiring someone to do the ultimate, a modern day Old Testament punishment for adultery- stoning to death but with modern weapons.

And everywhere they go, they marry and make children before destroying their wives and children.

And so, the wives to pick up the pieces. And they WILL! Because know like them, theu have so much to live for!

Some of the things that force me to stay alive.

Our angel has been active but then causing us to be active too. She has spent maybe five days now, going to the slide every possible moment. One memorable afternoon last week she pulled me out at just before 5pm. (She needs support climbing up the ladder part’ and she needs us to watch her cos she doesn’t have a concept of safety) and stayed out there till we had to bring her in as she screamed and cried to stay out, at 18:20. It has been hard on the body and mind. But then, she switched things around on me suddenly and made it even worse. She started going UP THE SLIDE itself. But she can’t! So now I had to push her up, with my dying arms, and also make sure she doesn’t fall off. One time, her foot left the actual side and was in the air, she couldn’t tell she wasn’t stepping on the slide. And the higher she went, the heavier and harder it was for my arms and strength. And that’s not forgetting the hips, SI joints and back that are also taking strain.

But… I have also been impressed with the folinic acid. I believe it is making a difference to her speech. She tells herself, “Let’s go down the slide… Weeeee!!!” I have her circles that each had one number, and she put them in order from 1-5. So there’s life in that little brain of hers, it just needs you to pull it out so you can figure out what she knows without you needing to give directions or instructions her brain doesn’t yet understand.

And there are simple wins like small Temu windmills.

That is one of my reasons for living.

An SDA wife in Barbados has been having hectic trouble with her husband and nobody to listen till she told me. We’ve been watching each other on Facebook for over eight years.

Our SDA churches don’t have people who check on abused or neglected women. And they shut their ears and still keep smiling and encouraging the man to keep leading. It has made attending church very difficult for her, seeing him ‘serving’ a God he doesn’t love nor obey, and seeing those who know, condoning his hypocrisy. She only realised recently, that it was all stemming from narcissistic abuse. Her husband is cruel to her in different ways, and like all charming narcs, people who pretend to care about values and principles actually don’t. So they don’t disapprove of, rebuke his actions and treatment of his wife. And this includes her one and only mother figure who said, “Well, he hasn’t wronged ME, so it’s none of my business. He’s still my son and I’ll treat him like I always have.” Which means she will admire him. Showing him his wrongs are rights. And that is the other problem with abuse. The narc’s flying monkeys who encourage the evil by never speaking out. That betrayal by others who are the opposite of what Titus 1 wants, which is “lovers of GOOD men,” has hurt her the most. She said communicating with me has helped her more than she could ever express. She too has had money taken from their family by the man. Used for his wants and pleasure and not on her and their children. She said she is finding strength and courage. People don’t care, don’t want to listen, but she will never stop speaking the truth anyway. Now I owe her my life.😅 Can’t exactly go kill myself when I’m helping someone else stay sane and in the process, gaining too!

In the morning in Sabbath, I receive that WhatsApp text sent above. I felt strengthened, encouraged, firm. But by the afternoon, I was sad. Recalling certain events that now made sense and my heart was heavy again. My friend hadn’t replied all messages I’d sent in the morning so I knew she was busy and didn’t want to overwhelm her with feelings she also finds difficult to navigate. So I went to check if my SDA Sister in Struggle had written. If she hadn’t, my next step was another lady who told me she was offering herself as someone to vent to when things become hard and I need to cry it out.

But my Barbadian friend had written. And it gave me the strength I needed to hold my head up, keep nursing my sick children, and keep nursing myself too. Surgery on Wednesday and I’m praying hard I don’t catch the virus the children have. Poor Twin B has a horrible cough deep in her chest, others noses are broken, they’re tired and falling asleep, I didn’t even bother with afternoon ADHD med dose because they’re so miserable anyway. Twin A keeps asking why she can’t get BETTER!!! As if we can control it. Ammy’s throat is horrible sore. She struggling to swallow even liquids.

(Did you know that it takes me days to type just one post? Too much to do, think, research, plan…And now I just remembered I promised I’d order more sand for the sandpit. BRB!)

And I have my oldest daughter to live for. Gaining confidence in spades! She had complained about how she hates that she has the answer the lecturer wants, but is too shy to say so.. then by the time she has the courage, he has answered it himself or someone else has. But this past week!!

And my other daughter…

Her mother’s psych treatment is treating nothing. Mom is still so depressed that she hasn’t even noticed that the signs of neurodivergence in my girl’s youngest bio sister that she mentioned to me a year ago, have gotten much more pronounced. When little sister turned two, her verbal world went silent. Autism allies and parents know what that could be. She had quite a few words she said. But they disappeared and instead, she makes nonsense sounds (vocal stims like our Twin B, perhaps?) Baby girl was already a late developer but now she’s regressed. Crucially, she no longer turns to the person when her name is called. And she hates touch.

How will this 20 year old handle a sick mom and a neurodivergent toddler sister and her own baby? It is HARD parenting alone when there’s an adult there. It’s an empty promise of possibilities. But instead, the adult becomes part of your heartache. And worse yet, the one strong emotion mom shows, is anger when little one has what we believe is a meltdown “crying over nothing.” She beats baby girl. She only turned two this month.

I have to stay alive to see her and my other two graduate.💔🥹

I keep praying for breakthroughs for her and my son. Next year needs to bring more school than this year did. They need to manage their courses, do their work and thrive! And I need to see them achieve that together with my girl in the other province who is making leaps and bounds in her education and is still serious about school. She was lamenting her friends who don’t pitch for lectures just because they don’t feel like it, while also sad for her oppressed Muslim friend who wants to attend lectures but her father said educating a girl is a waste of time and money so refuses to take her to school. And sadly, she is an a hour away from campus in a different direction completely, so my girl can’t go fetch her and take her to school. Sad! We have space for her in our house that our girl is in. But that would definitely be a taboo to her father too.

There is just so much misery in the world!! Her mother is a housewife. Can’t pay for Uber to get to school though she agrees that her daughter needs her degree. So frustrating, the control men have over homemakers!

Anyway, I can’t stay alive for HER. So let’s move on.

I stay alive because of God, of course. Until my lungs fail, or something else kills me, I have to believe I have a reason He has created to stick around this miserable planet. And therefore, I have to reduce the misery others feel while I’m at it. There are so many selfish people who focus only on their own woes when they speak to you. I pray to be able to succor others with the same grace God succours me with. I’ve already mentioned my friend on here before, my other reason for living, so I won’t bore you about HER this time.

I also have to continue being teacher. On Friday, I was in excruciating pain, I settled the children with an activity to keep them busy and went to my room to rest for five minutes before calling pupil number one for class.

I took off my shoes, turned around, and there she was! Seated and ready for school!😩😩😩

So, school it was.

Here’s to another week. My children can’t breathe, are coughing, sniffing, spreading tissues everywhere, one can’t eat or talk or drink because she’s at the sore throat like cut glass phase. I am sad. As Twin B’s OT repeated an adage I’ve seen recently, “You’re only as happy as your most unhappiest child.” Ie If there’s a child who is struggling, miserable, sad, you can’t feel any happier than that. A loving mother frets and feels sorry and tries to reduce the suffering. More with all five being miserable and the terrible fear of catching it myself, that level of ‘happiness’ is extremely low.

And I guess that’s why I will fit ever feel sad. Having a child who can’t express themselves is a pain in the heart that we carry everywhere we go. Having a child who is aware of their academic weaknesses and doesn’t want as narrow a future as their learning disorders allow, does not lead to ecstasy.

But sadness does not need to be shown. It does need to stop us from being what we need to be. And so onwards and upwards we go. We have so much to live for. We have so much care and empathy to give. I hope the last memory I leave for those who have put themselves in my life is one of care and compassion.

Who are you living for?