Showing posts with label ready. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ready. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

"I'm Ok"


"Don't lie" shouted my step-dad from the other side of the room.

This exchange happened while my Mum was in ICU in April 2008.  My dad called to check up, and we had our auto-pilot introductory exchange.  My step-dad called it for what it was. 

My step-dad also said during this time, "Never get married.  Loosing a spouse sucks".

Well look what I up and did.

I've been feeling in the last week or so like I've not actually allowed my grief to do it's thing.

I'm not a crier; never really have been.  My personality sits on the stoic end of the spectrum.  At Ian's funeral, when I did cry over his coffin (and had the out of body experience of "I'm not really doing this, am I?  This just isn't 'me'"), my dad and step-mum told friends that I'd be fine, now that I'd had my breakdown.  Probably correct at the time; but too much of an expectation now.

Let's add to this mix: my family culture is you don't let someone dying stop you from living your life, which has often come from the person dying.  

The morning after my grand mother died, my step-mother and I headed interstate to a conference that Grandma had wanted us to attend.

Six months after Mum died, my step-father died from an aggressive cancer while I was at a conference in Mexico, after I'd travelled through Cuba (via London, from Australia). I'd offered not to go, but he'd insisted that I go on this trip which I'd been planning for 3 years.  He apparently loved getting the emails I could send from Cuba. 

He'd also told my sister that he and mum wouldn't come back and haunt us as long as we didn't stop living just because they'd died.

So when Ian died, I just kept going. 

Working...  

Picked up university study...

Adjusted to being a single mum... 

Kept on keeping on.

I finally crashed in April last year 9 months after Ian died, as I've mentioned before.  I had a short course of visits to a psychologist, but although she got me through the immediate situation, she and I didn't really "click".  And had a bit of a rough time in March/April this year, but I felt ok enough to manage on my own.  But emotionally/psychologically, that's about all I've had rear it's head since Ian died.

The big thing I've had is illness; recurrent sinus infections hitting each month that I wound up having surgery for last September.  That seemed to fix that problem.

Since the start of the year I've been getting this nasty recurrent cough and at my widow's group this week, after it hit yet again, someone mentioned it sounds asthmatic.  Someone else had ventolin on them, so I had a couple of puffs and thankfully the cough went.  Off to the doctor's the next day, and she said that I responded to the ventolin, that's pretty much diagnostic since I get shocking hay fever which sits on the same gene.  Yeah, hello adult onset asthma.

With that in the background, in the past few days I've been feeling like I've not done this widow & grief thing in the most healthy of manners, even if it's the way I'd 'naturally' process it, and my body is telling me this.  I'm sure some around me will go 'finally, she's got it'; others won't understand why I'm struggling now since there's been the passage of time. 

One of the mantras at our group is your mind only lets you deal with what you're able to at any given time. 

As I approach 2 years, now I have all the practicalities in place, maybe I'm ready to look into other therapy and/or counselling options and intentionally look at my grief head on for the first time.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Ready. For now.

source


After hitting the 3 year mark on Saturday, I feel like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Grief never really leaves, but I think the experience alone in a new place, along with the fear that I might have the baby before I got to properly grieve and get through the week left me scared and hurting in new and different ways. But, like always - and sometimes without my consent - I survived.

I watched most of my friends and family grieve from afar, over facebook. I watched some people forget. I watched my kids write sweet notes and hand prints on lanterns and their faces lit up when we let them off in the sky. I watched the clock, remembering every moment of the day 3 years before. I watched my phone, looking for the names of people I care about to pop up. Some did, some didn't. And I watched for signs that somehow, somewhere, someone made a mistake and after three years, this wasn't still real.

Now, I feel ready to go back to facing the life that Jeremy wanted for me. I know I'll have plenty more days like last week, when the weight of everything seems too much, but for now, I have some clarity. I have contentment. I have the desire to make him proud and love the way he taught me how. I feel this urgency to not waste the short life I had with him and to continue to love and appreciate what I have now. I was gifted with another reminder of how short life is....and to see that as a 'gift' is no small feat. I can feel a piece of Jeremy's heart beating through mine and through the hearts of the 3 little miracles we created together. And I see more pieces in his sweet family that means the world to me. I will hold on to those pieces and take them with me along the way.

I'm ready. For now. Ready to face another day, ready to live, laugh, and love. And most importantly, right now....I'm ready to have this baby!