Yesterday I heard myself laugh. It’s not that since you died, I haven’t laughed. It’s more like my laughter since your death has been “appropriate”. Someone said something funny, cue laugh! It’s been hollow and I’ve not felt the laughter. Yesterday I was working with two other women and it happened.
I was bitching that i went to get my license the day after Christmas so I could go to Texas and see you. I hadn’t replaced it yet after my purse being stolen at work last MAY. Because I have the enhanced (for those trips we used to make to Canada) I got my paper copy and the hard copy was to arrive in ten days. I flew on my temporary. I realized the other day when I had to use my ID I am in possession of a way expired temporary enhanced ID, and no hard copy ever arrived.
I said to one of the women, Elvie, that I should just bite the bullet and get a passport. Elvie agreed, Kathy asked what the enhanced was, so I explained it to her. Then I said, “Yeah I might commit some heinous crime someday and need to flee the country and a passport would come in handy. Kathy started laughing first, then Elvie chimed in, then I laughed, then Kathy laughed harder, which made Elvie laugh harder, then Kathy started turning red and laughing really hard, which made me laugh harder and then I looked over at Dave, who was working, but listening, and smirking. This made me laugh even harder, then I FELT my laugh. Honestly Mel, it sort of frightened me, but at the same time, it felt really, really good and I knew that you would be happy to see me feeling and admitting it felt really good.
Then I went to my grief counseling and kind of decided I am through the crisis and think I can move into support group instead of one on one.
Today I was at work listening to Miranda Lambert and Somethin Bad came on. Out of the blue, I began to cry because I felt guilty for starting to go on with my life. I literally had to take an extra break and go outside and cry it off while I smoked. I didn’t expect I would have survivor guilt, but I recognized it for what it is, as soon as I felt the sadness and guilt roll over me.
What a road you have taken me on. I wish like hell you were still here and I do not believe a day will ever go by when I don’t think of you or miss you, but I am coping more and I am NOT in crisis as I was. I hope this isn’t as good as it gets, I hope I can get back to where I was, but one thing is for sure, because of you…I am still learning.
I also think I can safely say that the scabies are gone. The only reason I hesitate is that I did my last treatment (early) last Friday. Saturday I went out and worked with Danolyn. We did hedge work. I cut, then picked up over 1600 pounds of laurel and ivy. It took us about ten hours. I was in the sun all day and it got to 85 that day. At first on Sunday I thought I was having an allergic reaction to the Ivermectin, or that I didn’t use sunscreen. By Tuesday when I went to the pharmacy to get my thyroid meds, I showed my pharmacist and he said it was nothing related to Ivermectin, nor did he see any scabies. Then he asked if I had been in any shrubs or bushes. I told him, he assured me it was from the ivy. I am still reacting to it, but taking Epsom Salt baths and it is helping. Today is the first day I didn’t run straight to the tub, and I am feeling pretty good.
I did three treatments with permethrin. It did not help me, but it did Mr. Yummy. Then I did two treatments of Ivermectin, and it seems to have worked. I am not sure if I actually had a new bite, or if I just had the leftover itch from the medicine (yes, it causes you to itch also) along with the die off itch and, then I scratched it and broke skin. All I know is I saw broken skin and freaked out. I immediately went and picked up my scrip and took it.
I can’t wait to cool all the way down, because I am still on edge, but slowly, slowly am relaxing.
I’m still sleeping alone. I don’t think I’ll be asking Mr. Yummy to let me back in his bed. If he wants me back, he’s pretty much going to have to invite me. I know he never meant to hurt me, but the distance that has grown between us, has hurt and I am…apprehensive. I love him to bits. I miss him, but I’m not pushing myself on him. He hurt me, even though he didn’t mean to.
So, that’s pretty much where I am today, five months and one week after you died.
I don’t want to feel guilty. I want to live fully. For myself, for you, for your kids.
I miss you so, so fucking much.
Sick n Sin