Sometimes

Sometimes, there is freedom in being told to fuck off.

It has taken me a long fucking time to find my peace, regardless that I would prefer a different outcome, but I am here.

I’ve taken my depression into my own hands. Micro baby steps, but after a week, I know I am doing the right thing and am going to continue with my current course. Sometimes it is better to listen to yourself, AKA, your gut.

It is funny, that I have become the mother to other women’s children. I was told this would happen to me, when I was really young. 17 years old and I was told I would have a child, but that child would not be mine, that I would be the mother to the world’s children. Here at 51, I have 5 other kids, aside from the one I gave birth to and two of them have a child.

These other children who have found a way into my life, love me for ME.

So, I’m moving forward, sure in what I am doing and curious to see what life is going to bring me in this new chapter of a new and different/changed me.

I read a card in the grocery store today. It is something I would have sent Mel. I felt that deep pang and loss of having my best friend here in the world, but I didn’t break down and cry. After mourning her for so long, I feel like I am sort of mourning the loss of something people take for granted every single day, a best friend. Maybe someday I will connect with someone again and, if I do, I will be grateful, and a better friend because I have known the best.

Indifference

It’s what I have come to feel.

She hurled hate at me. She blames, blames, blames, but has no desire to know the truth. She hides, safe in the bubble of familiar.

She watches me. Pretty odd for someone who doesn’t give a shit. I care, but I don’t. I will never set myself up to be punished by her again. Were she to try and contact me, I don’t know how far I would be willing to go. I will never turn away someone I love. Make no mistake, I love her, but I also will never let a dog who bites, bite me again. I am also very , very unlikely to bring her around Mr. Yummy. I keep him safe. We may have been through some shit this last year, but we are finally talking. There is finally some fire burning again, and he is…above my abusive and abusing past.

I feel less and less for her, because that is what SHE wants. I don’t know if I would ever turn it around or could trust again.

This is not what I ever wanted, but I am OK with it, because I have to be OK with it. Unlike her (you, because I know your eyes or someone else is checking in) I don’t stalk. I am strong enough to face anything. Surviving the losses I have survived the last five years, has taught me this.

So the hate she invests in me, is not hurting me. I don’t feel it, seething and eating away and robbing her soul of peace. It doesn’t hurt me, not like it hurts her. It has actually started to fade, because I have no choice.

I took a new step yesterday. It’s one I have been thinking of doing for a few years, to ratchet up that Spiritual journey.

Sometimes baby steps are actually micro steps.

One Year (plus one day)

Yesterday was one year since you let out your final breath as you arrived at the end of your journey.

What have I learned since then?

I realize that in a way, I’ve sort of grown up a bit. All those fears and issues I would have with life, you know the ones that we would always come back to in conversation, have had to be dealt with on my own. I didn’t have the safety net of you; the one person I could say anything to.

At first it was chest grabbing and crushing. I’d feel the panic start and that buzzing cycle that runs through an ever thinking brain, full of “what-ifs”. I have sort of learned over the last year that when I can’t reach out to you, I won’t explode. My world won’t explode but, I’ve had to resolve MY issues, on my own. That, or suffer the consequences of the cycle of obsessive thinking.

Over time, I’m learning to actually walk the rope of life on my own. Some days it is hard, other days, “I got this, girl.” Always though, I miss you and am grateful for you. Regardless of every thing you did and didn’t do to yourself, my hurt, anger, sadness…you have taught and continue to teach me much. I know I’ll never have a fill in for you, but I will always be a better friend, because of us.

I don’t feel guilty anymore for how I feel about your kids. They are mine now. We will always have a bond because of you and I will always be a tie to you, with them. I’m pretty sure you would be OK with that. Living, and watching your children grow and live, will honor you.. I will never be you to them, but I am Auntie and I will there when they need a mom figure to turn to.

The plus one day…

I woke up this morning, went out back to smoke in the frosty darkness. I thought:

So I, am 1 today. One year ago today I woke up to live without you holding my hand. I’ve been doing it one my own for a year and a day now. I’m pretty sure I am going to make it. It does feel like it will be ever so much longer without you here. I miss your laugh and you quick witted, cutting humor. I miss your love, though I know it is still there following me, as mine still does you. It’s the loss of physical you. It’s made me feel so selfish because all of this grief has been about me. My sadness. My loss. My feelings. Me, me me.

I still cry, just not as often. I just went to get a tissue to wipe my eyes and saw your ashes in the slender vile. I had taken them out the other night because I was debating them taking you with me on the one year day; to have you close to me. Instead I left you here. When I saw the vile I began to really cry. Holding the vile close to try and hug what I have left of what physically held your beautiful soul and then tucking you back in my safety place.

I also realize that everyday, the randomness of death touches someone. If you are lost, wandering, not knowing how to deal with your grief and reading this… I am so sorry for your loss. There is nothing I can say to you to make anything make sense, or stop hurting, but I do understand grief, and I am sorry you are here. My only words I can even attempt to share, the words I hang onto in the darkest moments are that Love…never dies. Physically, it changes how you live it, but it never dies, because it’s pure energy. I know that Melissa’s energy went back to beginning so it didn’t just die. It absorbed back into where it originated from. I originated from this place, and so did you. I just haven’t always recognized the moments that it still touches me, but a few times I have. Those little moments keep me going.

So, one year, plus one day. I still love you.

SicknSin

366 Days

Three hundred and sixty-six days have come and gone since we took you off life support.

I’ve had so many firsts and one year marks that I’m sorta numb. My first birthday without you. The one year since we last spoke on the phone. The one year anniversary of the stroke. Your first Birthday, after you died. The first anniversary of removing your life support. There are just so many moments like that.

The oldest boys, plus Joey (I hear you laugh) were here Christmas eve and Christmas day. We spent our first Christmas without you, together. We made your fondant for the first time, without you.

I feel invisible in this world you left behind. I can say something to Mr. Y and it’s like I am not even in the room with him, like I don’t exist in his world. My feet want to run, but my heart knows if I do, I will never see him again. So I am starting to ask myself if that is so bad, or OK? I mean, he’s NOT feeling me, so why stay?

Still, no major life choices while feeling…this.

I miss you.