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Beginning to swim again.
Just keep kicking!
Date: 2/2/2010 8:42:47 AM ( 14 y ) ... viewed 1535 times “Like our plunging into cold water, it takes our breath away. The shock alters all our perceptions. Then we get used to it. Our bodies warm to it and we begin to swim.”
Healing After Loss
Martha Whitmore Hickman
After 4 years, I am beginning to swim again. An acquaintance I know lost her adult-son, he was college age, just two weeks after I lost my son. We live in the same community and we now work in the same office. She came to dinner when I was married. She went dancing, the very next week after her son died suddenly, at the resort where she worked. She water skied, canoed, cooked, cleaned - never stopped moving. She's still in the same relationship with the boyfriend she had then. She never cried in public, broke down, stopped working or took time off. She took more on she just kept going and going and going. Yes, I compare. I actually now work in the same office with this person. Her mother lost a son when they were teen siblings. Her mother came to her side and walked her through it. Was a positive director in how to do it. Even sent me a letter of support. Nice woman who has since died.
My mother couldn't be with me, or her three retired sisters. Oh, I asked for help. Not one bowl of soup. It wasn't time, distance or money that was the issue. It is the emotional well they draw from. It was and is empty. One aunt lost an adult daughter herself just 12 years ago. Was my divorce ever a sore disappointment to them. It felt like I proved to them that I am and will always be just a loser. Careful, don't want to get any on you. I lost two brothers to alcoholism before they turned 40. It was not pretty, they were not successful, or well-dressed, accomplished people. They were poor, uneducated, and truly discouraged men. My father died that way as well before he was 60. Just carrying on the family tradition, I guess.
I am resigned to simply writing pleasant notes to them all at each holiday. I do not telephone. I visit once a year. It is painful for them to be around me, it seems. Worst-case scenario of a daughter, of a niece, of a wife, of a lifetime.
It is this empty emotional well that my foundation for my life was formed. One that I continually strive to fill, understand, and to keep from killing me through my very intentional thoughts and actions. They are not standing by my side telling me to fail. I am learning to re-program myself. It is sad that my ex-husband and step-children paid the price of my very empty well. It is sad that I continually fall back to operate as though I cannot change. I can and I will.
This morning in my morning readings and response-journaling I've decided to shut off the television for the majority of time for one year. Sunday nights can be my reward of Masterpiece Theatre. Two hours a week vs. the current average of twenty one hours a week. It's a substantial cutback. The TV got me through the holidays. I zoned out, not wanting to feel anything at all. Well, I still felt the pain I was trying to avoid and am left with less social skills than I had before I turned on the TV. Would the end-result have been different had I turned to other outlets? I have to say yes. I have the piano, books to read, bills to pay, files to organize. Who knows, maybe I'll even call a friend or two. I was writing notes on an average of two a week before the holidays to say hello to random people. I was trying to practice being light and kind to others. I was attending a writing class. I was not vegging out at this massive rate each week.
If I don't want to be like those who have gone before me, I MUST change today. Today is all I truly have.
Last night was #3 in evening routine of face and teeth. Even at the minimum effort it is still more than not doing it at all. Sounds pathetic when I think of other 45 year old women out there who run corporations and I am celebrating that I brushed my teeth for the third night in a row before bed. Jesus, no wonder I'm suicidal. Everyone must start somewhere. I must remind myself that I truly gave myself up to death by drinking, divorcing and leaving my life entirely. I cannot just jump back into life as though the bottom never happened. I can decide to be gentle, compassionate, and optimistic. If I can come back from the non-functioning, drug-saturated mess I was just one year ago to living alone, holding a job, being sober, and paying bills (however inconsistent at this time) - perhaps next year I will not be suicidal at all. Perhaps I will wake up each day with joy and excitement and with a true passion for living and being a part of this world. There's a lot of really good action and momentum born from that. Perhaps I can do a lot of good in this world. First matter at hand: build an emotionally stable foundation of mind. I won't be this broken forever. I was once highly functioning, ran a home, had a strong marriage, oversaw the raising of four beautiful boys, worked full time, and was the emotional compass for it all and leading them all in a very positive direction.
Getting my old life back is not the answer. Building a stronger me is. Have to leave for work soon. Will go to a meeting tonight. Will cancel Netflix when I log out of this blog. I can hardly believe how frightened I am to give up the cozy, but mind-numbing, television. Just swim and keep kicking~
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