What a shit day. I think I'm fairly depressed. All of this upheaval with Reilly has pretty much sent me reeling. Yes, he has shown significant improvement at home and at school, but it's only been a few days and I still have his phone. I swear... he is a different kid without that fuckin' thing.
The day was going along as usual... no big surprises. Chris came to hang with Rory & then pick up Rei from practice & take them to dinner. The little kids' mom picked them up at 3... for a whopping 3 hour visit. That had been the plan for a couple days, so I took the opportunity to make myself a hair appointment. I don't know what happened, but the longer I was in the car driving to the salon, the darker my mood became. Full-on funk. Even with all that's happened lately, I haven't actually cried in a while. Weird. Then I'm reclined at the shampoo bowl for a half hour while my color sets, and I start seeing horrendous pictures in my mind. David in his death bead... dead. Everyone weeping over him. His body laid out at the funeral home for me to identify. These aren't images that I routinely flip through. I don't know what the fuck happened. They just kept re-playing... like short clips from movies... and I couldn't make them stop. I started to feel like a war veteran with post-traumatic stress disorder. That wouldn't be out of the realm of possibilty, but why now? Why today? All of these months later... I just don't get it. Still, there were no tears.
Once I got back to the stylist's chair I checked my phone. I had a few e-mails, one from my dear friend and social worker. I'll tell you what... I did NOT see it coming... she said that there were people in our new parenting support group who are uncomfortable with the way that I express myself, and asked me to refrain from being quite so "colorful" when I speak. She was very sweet & said that I can always express myself however I'd like when I'm with her, but not during group. I wasn't even halfway through the e-mail when I started sobbing. SOBBING. Lovely. I wrote her a quick note back telling her that I'll just skip it, because "if I can't be myself, what's the point?" I feel completely abandoned... left by the side of the road to rot. Do you know the main reason that I have so loved these support groups? Because it was always a place where I COULD express myself...without explanation... free of judgment... and everyone got it. I was especially looking forward to tomorrow's group after the teenaged shit storm of the past week. Oh well. I plan to deliver Rory to his group and then go sit in my car. Good thing I've had a lot of practice doing that. I wonder how many hours... days... I spent sitting alone in my car in the parking lot of that hospital... hmmmm.
Got home, put Rory to bed & then had to go over course selection stuff with Reilly. More tears. That was always David's deaprtment, and I feel woefully inadequate making those decisions.
I finally laid eyes on my Finn at about 9... laid down to snuggle him and promptly became a heaving, sobbing snot bag. As always, he was incredibly sweet, loving and supportive. Fuck! I just want to move on, but so much of this shit is never going to go away.
I clearly needed the cry, and I'm thinking I may have even lost a pound. We're talkin' copious amounts of snot. Oh sorry... I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable by expressing myself. So much for a support group... going it alone... again.
S
Trying to survive and thrive, through the most difficult time in my life.
Welcome!
So here's the Reader's Digest version for those of you who are new to my blog.... My 39 year old husband, David, was diagnosed with a hideous and deadly cancer in April of '08. We were told he'd likely die in less than 4 months. Obviously, that diagnosis turned us inside out and shook us to the core. At the time, our boys were 12 and 4... can you say 'fucking nightmare'??? I spent the next 14 months being his 24/7 caregiver and advocate... never leaving his side unless it was to get the boys to or from therapy or their cancer support groups. Cancer and the hell that it brings became our universe. And yet, I was able to get myself to a place where I was depending on my faith.... existing on a plane of pure gratitude. I focused my energies on recognizing the blessings that cancer had brought to our lives... yes, there ARE blessings that come with such a dire diagnosis.
Things were good. David miraculously entered remission in April of '09. I was looking forward to the next few months being our 'summer of healing' as a family. And then my world stopped. He left me... left US... on 6 June 2009. And FYI... he told me he was ending our 18 year marriage in a note. As if that wasn't bad enough, he had left me for a 'friend' who also happened to be married. Nice. The next few months are a blur... I descended into a deep, dark depression, and David's vicious treatment of me didn't help. He was running as fast as he could from everything associated with cancer, and that included me... our family, our home and the entire life we had built together. Things went from bad to worse when his cancer returned with a vengeance. He began treatment once again, and I had to dig deep to help him and make things as easy on him as possible. I even offered to have him move home so I could care for him through his treatment. As it turns out, it was a good thing he didn't take me up on that. The hateful way that he treated me during that time would have made caregiving for him an unbearable situation. I KNEW he was dying... nobody else did, because he fed them all kinds of bullshit... but I knew. Because of that, I focused on the boys and made sure they were with their daddy as much as possible.
His final months were a living nightmare... a kind of pain and darkness for which there are no words. No human being, no matter who they are or how they lived their lives, should have to suffer the horrific pain and endless indignities that David did. In spite of everything, I was with him constantly, much to the chagrin of his girlfriend and his mother. 'Too fuckin bad' was my theory. I wanted my boys to see that I NEVER turned my back on their dad. And I didn't. I continued to advocate for him in the hospital... fighting to get him the meds and the specialists he needed. I was there during his final moments of consciousness. I took Reilly to say goodbye to his dad, just before he slipped into that state. I was there when he died. I ID'd his body at the funeral home. I planned his funeral and his Celebration of Life. I placed his ashes in the wall of the Columbarium at the Naval Academy. We had spent half of our lives together, and though I was no longer in love with him, I did those things out of respect for the life that we shared and the family that we created.The 6 months since he died have brought more changes. I struggle daily to untangle the financial disaster he left me, and I'm fighting like hell to keep our home. The boys are now 15 and 7 and trying to learn how to move forward in their lives without their daddy. I had to get a part-time job after spending 15 years as a full-time mother, and I'm doing everything I can to trim the fat so we can afford to stay where we are. My boys NEED the stability and comfort that come with remaining in our home and community, and staying in their schools. To that end, I will fight with every fiber of my soul to ensure that those things happen.My greatest blessing is that I now have an incredible man in my life... a man who is thoughtful and loving, strong and sensitive, hilariously funny, and who loves me just the way I am. He is authentic. He knows who he is and is completely comfortable in his own skin. It certainly doesn't hurt that he's 11 years younger than I am and sexy as hell. :0)Yes, my boys are struggling in many ways... the therapy and support groups continue... and I still have MUCHO 'death business' to handle. That said, I am starting to believe that there might be a happy future ahead... for all of us.The past almost 3 years have been quite an emotional roller coaster, to say the least. Writing has been the most important part of my day, every day, since this journey began. I am once again being put in a position where I have to learn to survive... spiritually, emotionally, physically, financially... you get the picture. My hope is that I can hold on to my faith, find a moment of joy in every day, be the best mother I can possibly be, and hopefully... one day... emerge back into the light.December 2010
That makes me so angry to hear that people have a problem with that! Hopefully your friend lets them know that their selfishness has now caused you to not want to go. I hope that you can find a way to express your feelings if you decide that you are truly done with the support group (which sounds like it's not very supportive at the moment). Wanted to let you know that I'm thinking about you!! I'm lucky to get a few minutes to get on the computer at night, so I'm sorry for not posting more!
ReplyDeleteI agree with Kristin...I have never thought twice about how people expressed themselves in support groups we have been in. Cancer hits everyone and different people express themselves in different ways. Whatever...to each his own. We are all humans and need to be there for one another.
ReplyDeleteas far as the pictures in your head, I totally get that too. It has been almost 11 years since I lost my brother and I still have images in my head that hit me out of the blue that I just cannot shake. I never know when they are going to hit but they never fail to shake me. The good news is, they happen less as the years go on.
hang in there
love you
aot
r~
START YOUR OWN "COLORFUL" SUPPORT GROUP!
ReplyDeleteYes, of course you have PTSD. Those people
are idiots. They need to let it go.
This week was a bag of snot. Hey, you
have a great weekend ahead planning Finn's
big 31. Don't drive off a cliff. Stay the
course. You have not done anything to be
ashamed of. This is all great for Finn. He
gets to see ahead of time how to raise a teen.
He's gonna wonder if girls are worse than boys!
You ARE amazing.
Love
Auntie Nut
I am sorry that your group felt uncomfortable with your colorful language. I think that you have every right to paint your picture any way you like. I think you should find another group or start one. I used to belong to a group called MOP's and they were offended that I was not baptist but episcopalean and that I didn't agree with some of their submissive hype they preached. As it turned out I moved away so I did not have to just leave but it was frustrating to have others "judge" me because I did not believe their thought police and fall for the line they were serving. I thought the group was about supporting mom's with small kids and have a place for prayer and support. Shit happened there regarding one of the mom's being beaten by her husband over something really stupid and I spoke out that it was wrong for him to have laid a hand on her and they all came to the defense of this moran because they felt she should have been submissive. Which really had no point in the incident but they were being told to support him not her....
ReplyDeleteShannon - you don't have to worry about expressing your written word. Let it out here. If we don't like your word choice we are free to skip over it or substitute a different word when we read it but you go ahead and express what you need to express. This is your journey and your story.
much love - AOT Spunky