This is not the Life I Wanted

This is not the life I wanted. When I say this, I mean literal, this is not the life I wanted. You hear the term soft life so much. I wanted to be the housewife who stayed home with the kids until they were old enough to go to school. I wanted to be the wife with her life together, just enough to hang out with the other wives in the gated community. Instead, I'm the wife who works 12 to 14 hours a day. I never get to spend time with my kids or my spouse outside of things that revolve around working. I'm tired. Not just physically tired, but mentally drained. I don't know how much more I can take.

This isn't a cry for help or a plea for mercy. It's simply a statement of what this life is shaping up to be. I can tell you for sure, this isn't the life I wanted. I dreamed of having the house on the corner that all of the neighborhood kids would come and hang out around. I wanted that for my kids and for my inner child, who didn't get to experience that life.

Things were on the right path for a while, however, a major shift happened and I haven't been able to get back on track since. About 2 years ago, my husband and I were involved in a car accident that changed how we lived life from that moment on. It was on a Sunday morning. We decided to have church at home so that we didn't have to get out into the bad traffic. After the service, we decided to get into our only car and grab breakfast. As we pulled from the parking lot, we were hit on the driver's side by a Jeep that decided he wanted to attempt to beat the yellow light. My husband was hurt. Unresponsive hurt. He came to and started yelling out in pain. There was nothing I could do outside of calling for help and trying to see if there was anything visible on him that was causing the pain. Once EMS was on the scene, they used the jaws of life to remove his pained body from the car. We were then transported to a local hospital, where they were able to determine that he suffered 7 fractured ribs and a punctured lung. All because of another driver failing to yield. He spent almost a week in the hospital, and we were finally able to return home. Life as we knew it was no more.

During his recovery, we were alone. The family that lived less than 30 minutes away didn't come by to see if we needed help or even call to try to maybe order some meals that I didn't have to cook. His care was on me. From showering to eating. From being cleaned in the bathroom to simply getting his meds ready every time he changes. It was all on me. I lost myself during that time. Honestly, I still haven't found who I was before this. I'm blessed to say that he has made a good recovery. However, it came with new challenges that we are navigating together.

I'm thankful for his recovery, as I've said before. He's independent again for the most part. Granted, he's nowhere near where he was prior to the accident. I'm finding it hard to forgive and forget about the times when we needed help. Something more than a phone call would have taken away so much stress and frustration. I was scared and alone. Taking care of a spouse isn't a cakewalk. I needed support. I needed someone to care that I haven't showered in days. I needed someone to care that I just wanted to take a nap and not have to worry about whether my husband needed help to use the bathroom. I wanted a break, and the ones who could have come and helped didn't make that a priority for them at all. It was hard to deal with. Heartbreaking to watch and live through. It's a pain and frustration that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.