Coping strategies

I have been silent on this blog for a long time, as I have been focusing my writing in my daughter's caringbridge page since we got news of her mitochondrial disorder. This week we were told that my husband's muscle biopsy confirmed the presence of the disorder in him, and in a very rare form, which has yet to be fully explained to us. I'm feeling the need to write more for myself again, not so much as a reporter of our miserable prognosis. I'll still keep up the cb page, but hope to spend time here more regularly.

Typically when we get bad news, Kevin crashes right away and then comes to grips with the change of outlook fairly well after a few days. As his foil, I usually function fairly well for a few days as my adrenaline sets in, and then fall to the pit of despair after reality sets in. I am currently in that pit. I recognize that wallowing in self-pity does no good for anyone, and so I am casting about for ways to get myself climbing upward. I tried a trip to Target yesterday afternoon--that was unhelpful, and I even barked at a (theoretically) sweet old lady who unknowingly cut in line ahead of me. I have the unfortunate fault of lashing out when I'm unhappy, and it doesn't serve any purpose other than to release my frustrations for a moment, and thus hurt those around me. I have at least become more aware of this pattern, but I'm not quite able to prevent it when I'm this troubled. In my search for comfort, I consumed some yummy but not good for me foods. This also failed to improve my situation. So I spent some time thinking: when I keep myself busy, I'm less likely to feel down, and doing something nice for someone can also elevate my mood. So I came home and attended to some chores that needed doing, and baked some banana bread with chocolate chips to give as gifts. I do feel somewhat better now. Perhaps keeping busy is just another form of escape, like reading a good mystery novel.

I'm feeling distinctly un-Christmasy. I've played about 16 of the 25 Yuletide shows I'm scheduled for. I love the African Children's Choir, but even they seem somewhat jaded as we approach the last week of shows. Coupled with loss of sleep, my scrooginess causes whole shows to go by with little attention from me. I have started thinking up some fun pranks for the last show, a tradition in the orchestra, and that helps to make the time pass. However, I'm not sure whether I'll feel right about instigating mischief that day, as I'll be sitting concertmaster, and want to set a good example.

Bah Humbug.