The internet, at least the most tangible version, has turned into a warm electronic shoulder, but it does the same. Every day, hundreds of people write to us for a second or forty thoughts. To help those in need of the collective experience of hundreds of thousands of Anabel readers, we thought of posting your letters in the form of articles. This way, you find it easier when you are in the same trouble some day. Thank you for writing to us and thanks for reading.
"Good evening!
To begin with, I'm just telling you that I'm blessed to be the mom of two kids, 15 and 13 years old. Perhaps too young, but at the age of 18, I became the mother of a child with physical problems where, as a result of a cerebral hemorrhage, my son sits in a wheelchair. It is tetraplegic, so all four limbs are affected.
It was hard when you were so young to cope with long nights in hospital corridors while your son stayed with dozens of equipment in the resuscitation room. It was difficult when his surgery lasted a full 13 hours and there was no doctor to explain why it was taking so long. There were moments when I surrendered and I told God why, why should it happen to me.
However, each challenge made me stronger. If I used to shiver and give up everything, today I am back to ?I am strong; I can; my son needs me; my princess needs me; my mother must not suffer for me; I don't have to give up because I have to be for myself and those who need me. ?
So I remember when one day, when I was completely depressed, I was telling myself what the hell am I doing ?! As I looked at myself in the mirror and cried as idiots, I began to paint and wipe the tears at the same time. From that day I never left home without adjustment, not even when I was in worse shape, or when my soul was dying.
I try that when I go out I will not pass on to others any of my sadness; nobody owes me. After all, they will tell me they will only regret it. No one can understand you unless you live it yourself.
There are those who, when they see me having to move my boy from bed to bed or vice versa, still tell me "How strong you are." It's not that I'm strong, it hurts my back too, I can't, but my eyes his is waiting for me, he is waiting for me to change, he is feeding me ... he is waiting for me for everything.
Then there are those glittery ones that tell me "Uaaa thumbs up, always well dressed, stylish, always with makeup, if I were crazy."
No, girlfriends no. I went through that situation. Who was I doing wrong except myself, my children, and my mother? No one else.
Every evening, before going to bed, I am back to my routine of thanking God for the gift He has given me. If one night he doesn't hear me say it, ask me, "Mom, did you say thank you today ?!" - posted by an anonymous woman to Anabel Magazine on Facebook on the topic "The Hardest Day of My Life".
