This part isn’t easy.
I came to a realization today. It’s not like I was out looking for it or anything. Actually, I was writing a little, working on one of the three books currently swimming around in my head. At the same time, I was watching/listening to my classes (I’m trying to take an online writing course).
Anyway, I’m contemplating a certain character in the book, addressing her arc, while I’m watching this video about one of the authors teaching this course, and all of a sudden, I’m in tears. Still fighting them back here, as I write this. “Still” being a relative term; as I write this, it has only been a few minutes since it hit me.
Here it is:
I need help. I’m totally in over my fucking head and I need help. I need a nutritionist, I need a health coach, I need a cook, a housekeeper, and a physical trainer.
I am overwhelmed, and I’m afraid I can’t support and give Jacquelynn the best chance to fully recover from this deadly diagnosis on my own. I need help, and I don’t have a damned clue what to do.
It’s difficult for me on many levels. First and foremost, I have to create a way to pay for help. I’m unemployed, remember, and I can’t bloody well just go back to work. She needs me here, and I was an absolute neurotic wreck when I had to be away from her for the workday. We both were, actually, and I honestly couldn’t tell you which of us was worse.
I’m also a bit of a control freak. There’s NO friggin’ way I could just turn her care over to someone else. I’ve been with her through every step of this, and pretty much 24/7 these last two months. I know her and I know what she needs.
But I can’t provide it the way she needs it. I can’t be the guy that makes her take the pill she hates (she doesn’t get petulant often, but it tears me apart when she does; I’m not good at playing “bad cop”), or that lords it over her on the exercise bike pushing her beyond her comfort zone. I simply can not intentionally hurt her feelings, and sometimes that’s necessary.
I need help, and I don’t know what to do.