Hello Old Friend
Hello old friend, we meet again.
If you're new here - this blog has been my place to openly grieve over the past decade. So, I guess it makes since to come back to it now since my good ole friend "grief" has reared his ugly head once again.
It's difficult (and ironic) because many of the words written here explicitly describe MY side of the pain. And now, as I reflect on this newest grieving moment, I want to talk about the other side. (I know - too little, too late.)
I want to start with a disclaimer - if anyone who falls upon this blog is ever experiencing feelings of hopelessness, please reach out. This is my personal email and I will personally reply to any/all of your messages.
Add me to your contacts. I. Am. Here.
Now - a story...
I remember 2004 as being a very difficult year in my life. I was a 26 year old wife and mother of three living in a small 2 bedroom house. I was bartending for a living and taking college classes. Earlier that year, my husband had a pulmonary embolism and was unemployed. Hurricane Isabelle had wrecked the restaurant so I was also out of work for several months. And I remember one day specifically where I was feeling particularly sorry for myself.
This specific day, I was cleaning my house as we were preparing to move because we'd been evicted. And then... my vacuum broke.
I remember clearly, sitting there on the dusty floor of the mostly empty living room... and weeping.
My husband had a pulmonary embolism. We were broke. I dropped out of college (again). Our truck had been repossessed. We were being evicted from our home. And now, NOW, my vacuum breaks?! Ugh!
It seems like a silly thing really in the grand scheme of things. But the vacuum breaking was what pushed me over the edge. I didn't have the money to buy a replacement and I had to be out of the house by the end of the day. It just made me feel - hopeless.
I sometimes wish I could have known what was ahead of me. I wish I could have gone back in time to tell that young woman that in less than 2 decades she'd have a successful career, a comfortable home, and life would be good, easy... happy.
But I didn't know. And even if someone would have told me, I'm not sure I would have had the ability to even comprehend a life like that. It seemed so far from the truth I was living.
So without the knowledge of my future success, I remember that I eventually got a screwdriver from my husband's tool belt and I sat there on the hard wood floor completely disassembling the vacuum cleaner and putting it back together. My memory stops there. I don't recall if I fixed the vacuum or if I ended up borrowing one from someone else. I just remember knowing that it HAD to be done. And I was the one who had to do it. So I wiped my tear stained face... and I did it.
Fast forward a decade...
In 2015 I was remarried. I had a life filled with all of the things the 10 year younger woman wanted. A life filled with all of the things that a normal person of 36 would hope to have. A marriage. A job. A comfortable home in a country club. A family that I considered my own. Brothers. Sisters. Parents. A husband. And a child.
But in August 2015, I walked out of my life.
By leaving that life, I also was walking away from many other things - dangerous things that I had learned I had no control over. Volatility. Violence. Depression. Addiction. Instability. Fear.I took what was mine and with nothing but a few thousand dollars, I attempted to build a new life. I was unemployed for 8 months, living mostly off of credit cards. I was even forced to borrow some money from friends and family.
I remember one day in specific. I was weeping on the floor of the shower of the tiny 2 bedroom apartment I was living in with my 2 teenaged daughters and dog. I had been waiting tables, but I was broke. Rent was due and I had no idea where it was going to come from. What had I done? I was alone. There was no one else to depend on. It felt hopeless.
I can't for the life of me remember HOW I pulled through that one - but I did. I probably borrowed money from my step-dad. And for that - and every other time I've had to borrow - I am grateful.
It was through the help of friends and family and the grace and hope that God has provided me, that I have been able to withstand all of my heartbreak and hardship. I get to live and love and experience all of the goodness of where I am today. I know that I am so blessed.
But that's not everyone's story. As a matter of fact, my partners from the time period of both of those stories above, while they have both struggled with the same problems and the same pain, they were not fortunate enough to withstand.
To put it bluntly - I have 2 dead ex-husbands.
The first one, the father of my children who is written about throughout this blog, died in a tragic car accident. His life was not easy. He struggled with addiction and depression. He had a loving family who was helping him, but before he passed, he was a shell of himself. He was not the man that I had married. He wasn't even the man I had left. Before his accident, he was a stranger to me.
My second husband - I've also explicitly written about in this blog. I talked about my pain dealing with his depression. I wrote about my hope and determination to move on. And I shared about by personal struggles as I searched for who this new version of myself was.
But he struggled too. No, he suffered. Like my first husband, he also dealt with depression and addiction. And I'm sad to say, that last week, he passed away from suicide.
I've been looking back at all of those words I wrote (and several others that were not public) and I've been weeping over the pain that we caused each other. Mostly the pain that I had caused him.
As I've been reflecting, I have been struggling with the why. Why do I get to live such a beautiful life? Why did I get to find love and career and comfort?
I was no angel. I was actually pretty horrible. I don't deserve my happiness any more than Brian or William deserved it.
So WHY do I get it? How was I able to overcome such sadness and grief and anger and disappointment? And of course, what could I have done differently to maybe alter the course a bit? Was that even an option?
Unfortunately, even with the hours/days I've spent reflecting on these questions, I still have no answers. I can't explain why some people get to overcome and some people suffer. I just know that I'm one of the lucky ones and I feel compelled to do something with that.
God has gifted me with strength and the ability to find determination even during times of hopelessness. I recognize it as a blessing and I'm seeking how I'm meant to use that. So that's where I am today.
Again, if you're reading this and you're feeling any feelings of hopelessness, please reach out to me. If you want to cry, yell, rant, or even sit in silence with me, I'm here. I don't have the answers to any of the questions but I've figured out that I'm a pretty determined person and a good listener. I have experienced the healing power of sitting with someone who knows what I'm going through.
So I'll look for the answers with you. And if I'm not the right person, we can find someone else through my network of friends and family.
And even if we never find the answers to any of our questions, we won't be alone.
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