Fear of Being Forgotten

     Did you ever wonder what would happen to you if you were ever gone? Every single time I see one of those fundraisers in memory of someone, it always makes me think of it.

I wonder if anyone would do that for me.
If anyone would show up at my memorial.
If anyone would miss me.

I think it is because I feel like the memories of B are slipping away.  The boys and I are left hanging on to the few memories we had of him that were tangible....but the memories are becoming foggier and foggier.  The dates are becoming less and less clear. The countdowns are stopping. The offers of company are drying up, if they haven't stopped already.  I am moving forward with a new person in my life. Does this mean that the opportunities for help have missed their window?  
     I always wondered how that worked. Why one tragedy is so much worse than another. Why the loss of one life is somehow deemed less worthy than that of another.  Why there is no more "village" to rally around grieving families. Why are the grieving left to find their own way now,  to forge their own path? I'm finding the lack of community support profoundly disturbing.  Have we really all become so absorbed in our own lives that we can't reach out to those who need help?
     I've even checked into the local hospitals to see if there are bereavement groups for widows.  Do you know that they actually have an age limit? There are one or two kids groups, maybe a tween/teen group, and groups that you must be over the age of 45 to join.

Yep, 45.

     So what about those of us in the 20-45 age range? There are quite a few of us. Husbands and wives whose married lives never really got started. Never really thought about life insurance. Never got to buy that dream house or family car or plan a family Disney vacation. Never celebrated a 5 year anniversary. Or a 10 year anniversary.  Most of us with kids and this whole new falling apart life and no support? Well, in the midst of our grieving for at least one (more if you have kids), figuring out how to run a household, trying to solo parent, and still work/go to school, we have to try to go it alone.

Forgotten about.
Left to go on with our lives because we can "handle it".

    To be perfectly frank, some of us can and some of us can't. Some of us pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and go on. We sob in our cars, or locked in the bathroom where no one can see or hear us, then we pull ourselves together and go about our day.  Others of us sit alone in our big empty beds, wishing and hoping that there was something else, some other reality where this huge giant bomb that just went off in our lives doesn't exist.  It is for these fellow widow brothers and sisters that I will create support where there is none.

I will make my mark so that you know that you aren't forgotten about.
I will set an example and hope people will follow.
I will, so I can for just one fleeting moment, feel like I will be remembered for something.

     What will you do to be remembered?




                                                           

Trigger Happy

  Grief can bring to the forefront all sorts of interesting conditions, exacerbate existing ones, and conjure some out of thin air.  For me, stress is a huge trigger of existing conditions, and what is a bigger stressor than GRIEF??

My OCD  has definitely kicked into high gear. I can't eat a meal if my food is touching, and my bathroom floor is so clean and sterilized, I could probably eat my own non-touching meal off of it. I think I locked and relocked my front and side doors so many times I think my kids think that I have lost my mind.

My mood swings have been particularly interesting.  One minute I am singing and happy and laughing...the next minute I am chewing someone's head off.  Sometimes I am running on 2-3 hours of sleep a night, sometimes I want to sleep for a whole day.  Ever have one or more of those days where you are so depressed that you can't even shower?  Yeah....try 3 or 4 of those in a row.  Shortly followed by 3 to 4 days where I want to shower about 6 times a day.  Fun, right?

The panic attacks are SUPER FUN too!! Ugh. Right. Nothing like going along blissfully through your day and then...WHAM! Heart pumping, thoughts racing, face flushed, breath short.....all in the middle of doing something that should so not have prompted it.

     It has also brought to the forefront a intense fear of commitment.  It is crazy.  I have this wonderful thing right in front of me, and I am doing my best to sabotage it.  Being standoffish, picking fights, needing my space, balking at any kind of talk of together-type things, and obsessing over the most insignificant things and turning them into huge issues.  The fact that he is sticking around surprises me every single day.

      Moving and unpacking I'm sure has not helped either.  There I am cheerfully unpacking boxes that I think belong to my son, and I come across B's wallet.
Then I come across some old Father's Day cards.
Then I find his picture in a frame.
Then one of his collectibles.
Then I cry.
Again.

     Triggers are unavoidable, I know that.  I know that the grief monster loves to rear his head at THE most inopportune time.  I know that over time these triggers will not overwhelm me so much.  I also know that, for the first time in months, I am grieving FIERCELY.  One other thing I know is that i will get through this.

Eventually.

     What triggers do you have? How are you getting through it?

Unpacking

You unpack lots of things.

Boxes.
Luggage.
Feelings.

Sometimes it is a relief.  Other times, not so much.

Sometimes those boxes, or that old luggage holds a lot of memories.  Good ones, bad ones, ugly ones.  Sometimes the things in the boxes make it to the new destination. Those things you gently unwrap.  Giggle and smile at the memories that they bring up.  Place them on the shelf and feel a sense of accomplishment that you did something by yourself.  Sometimes they might have a few dings or scratches, and sometimes they are broken beyond repair. What do you do then?  You gently gather up the broken pieces, wash them with a fresh new bucket of tears, stuff them into a trash bag, and throw them away.

Right?

If only it were that simple....

     Every broken thing reminds you of another piece of your broken life.  There is no way to put those pieces back together and have it be exactly the way it was before. Every scratch and every dent reminds you of the nice stuff that you used to have that isn't so nice anymore.  Every piece of luggage that gets lost reminds you of your own loss. Every feeling that you unpack and share with someone that is not reciprocated reminds you of what you had and desperately want to find again.

Then you realize that there has been someone there helping you to unpack all along.

     It might not have been the person or people that you expected. It might have taken a crap ton of hard work to get to this point.  It may have been something that you wanted for a while, or something that just snuck up on you.  You realize that while you were unpacking the boxes and the luggage there was that one person or people who helped no matter what they had going on in their lives.  They made room in their busy lives for you and your unexpected breakdowns and stress.  They never told you that they couldn't help. Or wouldn't help.  They didn't take advantage of your stressed out state to get what THEY needed from you.  You asked and they said sure. Not when it was convenient for them, but when you needed it.

Those are the people that are going to make unpacking your new, scary life that much easier.
For that, I am FOREVER grateful.

Who are you grateful for?

Tipping Point

     There comes a time in everyone's life when they have to make decisions.  For some, they come easy.  For me, not so much.  I am a worrier.  Always have been.  I go to a catastrophic place all the time.  I what-if myself out of a lot.  I listen to the negatives that everyone throws at me, but none of the positives.  I also have a really bad track record with making decisions.  Most of the time I want to do something so badly that I just jump in. Headfirst. With no lifejacket. So now I find myself here, at my tipping point, making life-altering decisions.

I'm in a new relationship.
I just signed a lease for my own place.
I will be unpacking all of the things from my previous life and putting them on display.
I will be really starting my new life over, in a new location, just myself and my boys.
I am going with my gut for the first time in a long time.
I am scared out of my damn mind.

     This comes at a time for me when so many things in my life are in flux.  I am on the path of my second firsts and it was just right.  I cannot be a scared little girl under the wing of my parents anymore.  They have done so much for me, and for that I am FOREVER grateful.  As scary as this tipping point is, it is something that needs to happen.  I cannot and will not spin my wheels in the mud any longer.  I have to allow myself to know that I can do this my myself, and the only way I will learn that is to just do it.

I need to learn how to live again.
I need to learn how to love again.
I need to learn how to be loved again.
I need to learn that it is okay to go forward.
I need to learn that going forward does not mean forgetting.
I need to learn that change is good yet uncomfortable.
I need to learn that comfort for the sake of not changing isn't necessarily a good thing.

Like I said, there comes a time in everyone's life when they have to make decisions.

Today, I have made mine.

   

Sense Memories

     My weekend was filled with these kind of memories. While meeting with my son's therapist, I could have sworn I caught a whiff of his smell...that mixture of cologne, outside, and cigarettes that always hung around his person.  Not exactly unpleasant, but an odd smell to be in the office.  As quickly as I noticed it and pointed it out, it was gone. Friday, I finally got my memorial tattoo, a drawing that B did for me on our wedding anniversary.  It was unfinished, as he passed away before it could be completed.  The artist was kind enough to add sunflowers to the drawing, which were my wedding flowers.  Then, as I was sitting down in the chair, his favorite Jimmy Buffett song came on. Monday, I was gifted a photograph of sunflowers by the artist himself because I had such a strong connection to the photo...visually it took my breath away, and emotionally I was tied to it because he had taken the photo on my family's farm, in the sunflower field planted specifically for my wedding.  Sometimes these experiences happen in groups, sometimes they are a single, fleeting event.

Sometimes it is a song.
Sometimes it is a smell.
Seeing his favorite video game in a store.
Watching our favorite movie.
Seeing the same look in his sons' eyes that I used to see on him.
Running my hands over the brim of his most well-worn baseball cap.
Passing the street corner where he kissed me and told me I was beautiful.
Running across my wedding albums.
Going to the same fair with the kids where we had our very first date.

   These small, fleeting, insignificant things can dredge up memories so powerful that they can take my breath away.  The tears steal down my cheeks faster than I can stop them. Ive gotten better at controlling it, but not always.  Sometimes the memories will trigger a smirk or a laugh or a giant smile that is too hard to hide.  Even now, after 18 months, the emotions tied to my sense memories are incredible.  Positive or negative, the feelings that are dredged up let me know that no matter how far out I am, or how far I feel I have come in moving forward from the greatest loss in my life, there will always be that hole in my soul that will never ever quite be filled.

This S**t is HARD!!!

     I suppose for anyone who is suddenly thrust into a new life without warning, the change can be somewhat jarring.  There are things to learn that you never had to do before, emotional places you'd never thought you would reach, friends you make, friends you lose, relationships you start, relationships that grenade on you....all things you never thought you would do before.  For me, from the unique perspective of young widowhood, I can plainly say that this shit is hard. It sucks.  I lost my best friend, the one I would run to and talk to when all of the hard stuff happened.  When I grieve, I'm not just grieving for me, but two young, impressionable boys who now don't have a dad.

I grieve for the loss of my hopes and dreams for my little, complete family.
I grieve for the milestones I am going to have to see and do alone.
I grieve for the loss of the one person on this earth who really, TRULY understood me.
I grieve for the loss of fun, happy-go-lucky me.

     I'm even trying the dating thing again, and damn does it suck.  I never realized how intolerant I have become of other people's crap.  Or how fiercely independent I have become. Or how I apparently constantly have "mad face" (aka resting bitch face) on.  It seems like everything starts out okay and then WHACK! The controlling, damaging, negative behavior rears it's ugly head in them.  I get that some, if not most, of the people available out there in the dating scene right now have some baggage. I have more baggage than most, but if there is one thing I will not tolerate is someone throwing their overstuffed baggage at me, expecting me to lug it up and down stairs through an entire airport. Not happening. Own your own crap.  If I care about you, I will help you unpack that baggage, but if you are going to start repacking your baggage into mine, we are going to have issues. A wise man once told me that love should lift you up, not put you down.

So do I just take it in stride that everyone is inherently broken and I should just settle for something that I think isn't right?  Do I just accept that my life from November 8, 2012 forward is just going to suck and I just have to deal with it?  How did I turn from the girl who saw the world through rose colored glasses the the woman who is the world's biggest people pleaser?  Have I really become that bitter, jaded person I was always afraid of becoming? I can't really be that desperate for love, can I?

  Sometimes I wonder if I do these things to myself on purpose...if I get into a headspace where I feel as if I am not good enough for anyone, so why bother pursuing something that I am so sure is going to blow up in my face anyway. Talking doesn't help. Yelling doesn't help. Stony silence doesn't help.                                        

This shit is hard.

Solo Parent Suckiness

          Last week I had the INFINITE (insert sarcasm here) pleasure of having an IEP progress meeting for my oldest son.  I had asked for his therapist to be there, but, as she was unable to attend, she spoke with the learning support teacher the day before.  An advocate was not able to be assigned, so I had to do the meeting by myself. Now, normally, doing these things by myself induces a bit of anxiety, but not a whole lot, as I have done it a couple of times before.  This time, it was different.  A few of the teachers turned it into less of a progress discussion and more of a "your son is not doing any of his work and is totally unfocused and I can't take it anymore" session.  Now, I understand that he is a handful, and I suppose letting me know that there is a huge disconnect between home and school is important, but there are better ways to go about this.  Where I run in to difficulty is being talked to like I am a 12 year old.

Just because I am a solo parent does not mean I am a moron.
Just because I do not have a partner to back me up does not mean you can bully me.
Just because I do this all by myself does not mean you can do a better job of it than me.
Just because I am sensitive does not mean I am not an effective parent.
Just because I am alone does not mean I need to have a man here to fight my battles for me.

     Having to deal with a kid with special needs all on my own is a daily battle in and of itself, but there are sooooo many more things that suck about being a solo parent.  There are so many logistics issues when you don't have a second pair of hands to help you out when you get caught in a timing issue. Like when both of your kids are in different activities and both of them have to be in 2 different places at the same time and you are stuck in traffic and you are not going to get either of them anywhere, let alone get healthy food in their faces and get homework done at a reasonable hour.  Or when you have a super early job or a late class that runs beyond the capabilities of your child care.  Or when one of them is having a particularly difficult time and you need to focus on them for the time being and feel neglectful that you are leaving the other to fend for themselves for the moment.  Or when you feel selfish because you are trying to go to school to better yourself for the good of your new little family and little things are falling my the wayside....like housework, checking homework, making daily dinners, keeping up on seasonal clothing changes, and keeping the fridge stocked full for 2 quickly growing boys who eat more than a small army.
     So, props to all of you solo moms and dads out there who are making it work!  Any suggestions to keep this harried mom from losing her mind??