People say you have to hit rock bottom before you can go up. They say the only place to go from the bottom is up. People say that god doesn't give you more than you can handle.
I don't know who started these sayings, it's just what I hear and I'm beginning to think that people make up sayings to make themselves feel better.
The last month of my life, has been the bottom. I've been through a lot of changes, some of them very fast paced. Those changes have brought me to my knees in tears more than once. I've dissapointed friends and loved ones. I've said things I didn't mean to people I loved.
It started when my uncle stopped breathing. When he stopped breathing for the last time. See, I stood at the hospital bed and was strong for the people I loved. I stood there and told him it was okay to let go. I told him that I would be okay, that we would all be okay.
At the funeral, I gave his eulogy without tears. I gave the eulogy of a man that was a surrogate dad to me.
Uncle Ken was a man that took me to lunch and opened doors for me and told me to never accept less than a man that opened the door for me. He was a man that read every article I ever wrote and told me how proud of me he was for my steely determination to make something of myself.
He made me promise once that I would never stop writing. This is the first thing I've written since he took that last breath.
I'm not getting paid to write anymore. During the chaos of the last month, I took over the house that he made a home. I have the dogs that he loved like children. I'm trying to take care of his legacy and that required a move and a job change.
In this house, he brought us together. We laughed and we cried and we yelled. In this house, He talked me out of the anger I had at my god brother, my son, my friend.
He talked me through the tears and told me it wasn't my fault, even if I didn't believe him, I knew he was trying.
I stood in that hospital room and lied when I told him I would be okay without him.
There was a night at a phone company two weeks ago, that caused my rock bottom. I stood there and watched my phone be factory reset (yeah I know, tell me now to make sure I physically back up my phone to the cloud when it was supposed to automatically do it.)
I lost photos, and text messages and voice mails.
Losing those things, something else I could never get back seemed to be more than I could take.
If you've never had a panic attack, let me tell you, people look at you like you're insane. They don't know how to help and when you can't explain what is wrong or why you're freaking out, well....When you can't explain that no, you really, literally can't breath and that each time you try to catch your breath, it's too deep and too fast, which makes it worse.
In this last year of my life, I've lost so much. I've lost faith in some people, I've lost people I loved, I've been hurting so much and losing the sound of his voice, or a text message telling me "thank you for showing me what a loving family I have" physically hurt me.
How do you explain to people that your life doesn't look anymore the way it once did. That you feel like the dreams you had, have been crushed. That you feel ashamed of the actions of people you love and there's a constant ache in your chest.
That next night, I drank way too much and said things to people I love that hurt them. I didnt' want to hurt them. I don't want to hurt them. I want myself to stop hurting. I want to be able to dream big and have faith and remember who I was a year ago.
I want to be the girl that was gonna conquer the world again. Right now she's just lost and I don't know how to help her find her way back. (yes I just referred to myself in the third person) I want to hear the sound of my laughter and have it be real. I want to smile and light up a room. I want to write and inspire someone to do better and be stronger. I want to have wonderful adventures and share them.
My friend Matt says, that I'm still inside. He says that my dreams aren't gone, they're just going to take a little more time and patience. He's also probably the person I've hurt the most with my words, which makes me more ashamed than I ever thought possible.
There are times that I'm afraid he will never forget the things I said and how much those words hurt and that we will never be who we were before. I can't lose anyone else. Not right now.
Somewhere in all this, I forgot to say that Taylor left for basic training in the Army. So two of the boys I centered my world around for the last 22 years, are gone. Zachary is the only one left for me to take care of and I have a feeling that's only for about year.
At my new job, I realize I'm an oddball.
When people start griping about things I think are petty, things we can't control like (gasp) forced overtime, I say things like "Someday I'm going to walk the gardens at Versailles."
That's the only way I can get through it sometimes, because I know anger is a part of grief. I know it's a stage, but there are times I want to yell at people that if their life sucks so bad, then change it. Because there are so many more things in life that can break you than having a sucky job or having people say stupid shit about you. (FYI, I'm working at the same building as both of my ex-husbands. I make jokes about it because if I talk shit about myself, than other people won't have the opportunity to say hurtful things about me, and right now, there's enough hurt in my life).
I want to stop hurting. I've tried to make that decision, but then I open a drawer and find a box of granola bars that Uncle Ken hid just for me. I pull out a painting that Justin did and wish to god the lesson he learned wasn't such a hard one. I open an app on my phone and find a picture of Gina. I log onto Facebook and see someone post something about my godbrother. I wake up in the mornings and wonder when the other shoe is going to drop. I think about my grandpa's cancer, and how old and frail my granny is.
I worry whether I'm doing the right things by Zachary.
Vicki says my life has seen so many changes and so much loss in such a short period that I should go to grief counseling. I don't think she's wrong, but I don't know where I'd find the time right now and I don't know how I would begin to explain.
Even in writing, I'm having a hard time explaining.
My whole life I've been fighting to be better than who I was the day before. I've worked my butt off to graduate and went through struggles to prove myself as a writer. I've had sleepless nights and days to make sure I was always a mom that attended field trips or gave my kids homemade meals. I was strong. I was determined.
I know it's still there, I just have to find it again. I'm trying.
I stood in that hospital room and lied when I said I'd be okay without him.
For now, I've already told an editor I will go back to freelancing for a local magazine, which is something I had to give up when I was working at the paper. I can't just stop writing. It's who I am.
Here's another interesting thing that grief has done to me. I want to be loved so bad, but when people try to get closer to me, I shut them down and shoo them away because ....I'm fucked up enough right now that I don't want to drag someone into my turmoil and anger and sadness. I'm afraid that anyone that came into my life, I would just drag them down instead of building them up.
For now, I'll take care of the legacy. I'll come home from a job where I don't get to use my brain, and I'll play frisbee with the dogs and I'll make this house every bit the home that he made it. For now, I'll get through. For now, I'll smile and fake that I'm okay.
Because someday, I will be okay again. Someday, there will be a real laugh again. Someday, nutri grain bars won't make me cry.
Someday...........
