Apparently I'm now an orphan

I survived Mother's Day week.

I didn't have a complete meltdown like I did during Easter. I'm becoming more aware of how the holidays trigger all my emotions. This week Beav, once again, brought home progress reports showing that he isn't turning in work and he is at risk of flunking two classes. Instead of blowing up I stayed calm and delayed full consequences until this week, except for this punishment for lying. I hate being lied to.

It didn't help that my father has decided that he can no longer be my father. He called me on Tuesday and was confrontational from the start. He complained that nobody knew what he was going through and that he was going to move down to San Bernardino to be close to his girlfriend. I told him that he was running away. You can't deal with grief by avoiding it (I should know). Then he started in on me about the fact that I'm not approving of his relationship, his wedding plans, and I have refused to meet his girlfriend. Then he dropped the bombshell "If you can't accept my girlfriend than you and I can no longer have a relationship."

WOW. The therapist warned me about this and I thought I was prepared, but then I also thought that I might have to distance myself for awhile. I never dreamed that my own father would decide that his girlfriend was more important than his family.

I told him that was his decision. I also told him he was a hypocrite and apparently all the Christianity he taught me growing up was bullshit. That's not to say what I learned was wrong but instead how can he turn his back on his daughter and use the Bible to justify his actions???

Yep, he did. Going on about being yoked, yada, yada. You know I've always been considered the black sheep of the family. It wasn't until recently that I really went back to church and started taking my faith seriously. So I might have spent a lot of years living as a nonbeliever, but if anything it's taught me to really appreciate my faith. And it's taught me that just because you've lived your whole life as a Christian doesn't mean you're better or smarter than me.

I just can't believe he felt it was appropriate to call me at work and tell me this. I went home and cried until I couldn't cry anymore. He called me two days later and I decided not to speak to him. My husband answered the phone and explained that I couldn't talk and told my dad that he was pretty angry about the things that had been said to me.

Of course all my dad cares about is that I called him a hypocrite.

I'm not the kind of person that walks around carrying grudges or hating people. But when someone that is close to me really hurts me I close myself off to that person. Some words you can't take back. I'm not sure I can forgive my father telling me he can no longer have a relationship with me.

It feels that on August 16th I lost my mom and my dad.

Surviving

Grief sucks. There is no way around it. I forget how holidays really tend to screw me up and yesterday it all hit me like a ton of bricks.

I had been an emotional wreck all week without knowing why. I was also a bitch. I completely overreacted to something Beav did the other day. And I seriously over-reacted. Blew up like he had just killed an entire country. Even later I couldn't figure out why I couldn't control my temper or my anger.

To top it off he did something Wednesday that really angered me and I didn't find out about it until Friday. By that time, I was done. With him sitting there I called his dad and told him that perhaps it was time for a change. Perhaps I just couldn't cut it and maybe he should live with his dad. It broke my heart. He is my baby. He wasn't thrilled either and carried on as if I had just grounded him for life.

He and his brother left early Saturday morning for a week with their dad. It was a good opportunity for all of us to take a break. Yet, I didn't feel less stressed. I spent the rest of yesterday just feeling down and crappy and angry that I couldn't figure out why. I had decided to spend the evening at home by myself since hubby was working. I was looking forward to some quiet and a chance to just be alone. I headed off to grab some frozen yogurt for later and found myself overly frustrated that I couldn't find a parking spot. Yogurtland shares the same parking lot as a grocery store. Leaving, I realized that the parking lot was so full because everyone was shopping for Easter. And that's when it hit me.

And I cried all the way home. It's obvious that on some subconscious level I had been dealing with it all week. It explains my inability to control my emotions. I only wish I had figured it out a few days ago. I came home and did my best to explain to hubby without falling apart. And then I called Beav and apologized and told him that I certainly didn't want him to ever live apart from me.

This week has been tough in so many ways. Death here in the blogging world, #maddie, my friend's grandmother the other day, and this morning I find out that a former pastor's mother just passed away. A woman I use to see every Sunday who always had a smile and a kind word. In the next seven days I have to attend two funerals and still actively deal with my own grief.

Grief sucks.

I am reading a new book called "The Grief Club" by Melody Beattie. I HIGHLY recommend it. I started it today and the first chapter was amazing. I wish I had found it sooner, but perhaps it was meant to be read now at this point.

In some ways I'm more whole now than I've been in a long time. I feel an overwhelming love for my husband. It's a feeling that hasn't been there as it should have been. I think that I've spent the better part of our marriage holding a part of me back. I hate needing people but I've never needed anyone so much in my entire life. Life is so short and I don't want to spend one more minute being afraid to feel something.

Even if sometimes what I feel is very painful.

So, thank you Mom, for helping me to see how important it is to really feel love. Even when it does hurt.

Till death do us apart and the tombstone is in place

Work is slowly progressing. The doc and I both know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, we're just hoping to see it soon. I am working my ass off, although it's still there, but I feel good about the work I'm doing and I'm glad I could help.

My father has pretty much upset all of his children. My sister warned me that he could be possibly bringing his "girlfriend" to my house when he arrives on Thursday night. I had to call him to give a head's up because I don't want to meet her.

That is my prerogative and my choice. I've talked about it extensively with my psychologist and she's assured me that this is a correct decision for me. I seriously can't put making my father feel better about his choice above my own mental health. I discussed his choices with him today and it became a very heated argument. Now my father has decided to close his business, because "she" feels it's unsafe. Now he has decided he needs to move to Southern California to be closer to her even though most of his family lives up north. And the biggie..he told me that he is waiting to marry "her" out of, and are you ready for this load of shit, respect for me.

I basically told him that he was being disrespectful to the memory of my mother. I also explained that at this point even thinking of him marrying someone else made me literally sick to my stomach and I didn't want to even discuss it.

I swear, I don't know who he is. I reminded him that every grief source I've consulted discourages you from making any major decisions for at least a year. He argued with me saying that everything he's consulted says everyone reacts differently. Yes, that's true I told him and those same people say wait a year before making any major changes.

I'm pretty sure that I'd be hard pressed to find a source that says after your wife of 41 years suddenly dies you should find a girlfriend, that was related to her, quit your job, move away from everyone, and remarry in less than a year.

I'm just saying.

RIP Honeybear

When my mom died I never cursed God. I didn't get angry at God, blame God, shake my fist at him....none of those things, even though everything I've read told me it was perfectly normal.

Until today. As I was walking into the psych office (and don't miss the irony here) my father called, crying, to tell me my mom's cat HoneyBear died.

Honeybear was my mom's baby. A very spoiled Persian cat. My mom LOVED cats. Cat knickknacks everywhere. When you called my mom and dad's house the answering machine stated, "you've reached Al, Sharon, and Honeybear."

For some reason...this news kicked off the blame game.

On the way home from the psych appt (all fifteen minutes of it because I got called back to work and don't miss the irony here again that my stress level is off the charts and I have to leave the psych appt) I raged against God. Wasn't it enough that you took my mom? You had to take her cat too? What the hell????????!!!!!!

I continued along those lines for awhile, sobbing while heading up the 710, hoping I could pull it together before I got back to work.

When I got home there was a letter waiting for me. Apparently my father feels that he needs to explain, in writing, why he wants to date. It's at least four pages and I'm not interested in reading it at all. I'm really not sure I will. But I definitely can't read it tonight.

There's so many other things going on but I can't even get into it right now. I would really like to go to sleep and wake up when all of this is over.

I don't see that happening.

A New Face Every Day

I finished one of my grief books today "I Wasn't Ready To Say Goodbye." Excellent book. So helpful in terms of knowing that I really am not losing my mind. This book also asserts that while there are different grief phases, nobody goes through them the same way and it's normal to not go through them as listed.

I keep hearing, "after a year you'll feel better." I found myself looking forward to this magical year mark. Would something switch inside of me? Would my heart be magically healed? It's simply not possible. A little over a year from now when Einstein graduates from high school my tears will be of joy and of sadness that my mom isn't here to see it. The first time my son is in uniform, I will cry again that my mom isn't here to see it. That was a huge connection for her, my son's love of the military and my grandfather's military service. Einstein received my grandfather's uniform, pins, and paperwork. I knew she would have wanted him to have it.

I interviewed today with an agency who has me going in for an interview with a family practice group tomorrow. I've researched the group and on paper, I really like them. They seem to be very community based and even though that's not my community, that kind of thinking follows my personal philosophies. Anyways, I was joking with Beav that it would be cool if I got the job because then that could be his doctor because my mom worked for my doctor when I was his age. That made me cry. It was a happy memory (except for when the doctor I saw for birth control sent my records over there).

Anyway, there are three of us interviewing for the position and the other two are bilingual and I'm not. They prefer someone bilingual but have told the agency that if the non bilingual candidate is the strongest they will go with that person. On the plus side I have billed for some of their speciality items that they do AND I have used their billing software.

It's been awhile since I've worked a regular 40 hour work week but it would be nice to be somewhere where I "belong." I always feel temporary where I'm at now. Not only that but they want to eventually promote the person that they hire. And there could possibly be a bonus for cleaning up some of the aging, which is a speciality of mine.

Who knows what will happen? All I can do is cover up the tats and do my best to impress the heck out of them.

In the meantime I leave you with this:

"You don't get over it
you just get through it
you don't get by it
because you can't get around it
it doesn't "get better"
it just gets different
every day...
grief puts on a new face"

From the Hat Hotel to Psychotherapy

Recently I made some changes to my bedroom. You may not know that I have a huge passion for purses and hats. It was starting to get crowded:

To the right is my "purse tree" and of course my stack of hat boxes.

Afterwards I had what hubby called "purse tower" and "hat hotel."

Thanks to everyone who gave me fantastic feedback with the issues I was having with Beav. I certainly don't want to discourage him from doing anything he wants to do. I did buy him a book called "You Are Not Alone Seeing Your Struggles Through The Eyes of God." It's geared towards teenagers and each chapter deals with a different feeling, for example 'Sometimes I feel disappointed.' The chapters are small and give the reader verses and reassures the reader that what they're feeling is normal and how to pray about it. He really appreciated the book and is in better spirits, although he still wants to quit choir.

Of course before the incident with Beav, I talked about this. As I mentioned in my last post I could feel myself completely getting stressed with what happened and I had to give myself a time out. I went into my room and I could feel the familiar pain start up, the inability to breath started and then I looked at the clock. I had thirty minutes to get myself to the dojo for kickboxing and sparring, I needed to pull it together and get ready.

Then the lightening bolt hit. This is exactly what I've been doing the past five months. Instead of dealing what I'm feeling I push it aside and go about business. NOT THIS TIME. I picked up the phone and called my sister. I've always hesitated to do this because she is a stay at home mom with eight kids and really, does she have the time to hear me whine? But she answered and immediately knew something was up. She put everything aside and let me talk, or I should say cry, because I just let it all out. I told her everything I was feeling, what the psychologist said, why I don't talk about how I feel, everything.

My little sister, she's pretty smart and unfortunately familiar with grief as she has had a miscarriage and a stillborn. She recommended I read books on grief. We both love to read and she felt that my biggest issue was needing to know that what I was feeling was normal. She joked that she had her own grief book library and recommended a few. I have to admit I felt amazing after we talked. I was laughing and smiling and I really never knew that sharing like that could be so helpful.

The best part was that it wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be. That doesn't mean everything is champagne and roses, but I really felt as if I had a victory. And I really started grieving.

After last weeks success I felt good about things. I knew that it was still an uphill battle but I was optimistic. I even went back to church. I avoid church when I'm wrestling with something that yesterday my pastor referred to as a "secret sin.". Something that as a Christian I've allowed in my life and it doesn't belong.

Sunday the pastor spoke on the very subject. It was weird because he mentioned so many things that had crossed my mind over the last two weeks. He spoke about how we try to justify behavior that we know is wrong. How we try to tell ourselves that its just our issue and it doesn't hurt anyone else. I said those very same things to myself all of last week and yesterday was reminded that I've just been feeding myself a line of crap.

Its not as if, though, you decide 'ok, I am ridding myself of this' and then your life becomes perfect. I feel unburdened by a lot of the things that were weighing on me before however, there are reasons I started to travel down that road and those reasons still exist. My life doesn't suddenly become perfect because I've decided to do the right thing. For me, a day can go from good to bad in a blink of an eye. Some stressors are just too much right now and I can feel negativity and anger cover me like a blanket. That's when the justification starts. That's when I start to tell myself 'well, I'm upset and if I do abcde that will make me happy and don't I deserve to be happy?' This is a familiar refrain and not one that I just say to myself but one I hear from others as motivation to continue down the wrong path.

It's obvious that psychotherapy puts me on a new journey. Hopefully it's a journey full of enlightenment, self-discovery, a better relationship with God, a better relationship with my family, and regained self-confidence.

Wake Me When It's 2009

It's not that I'm blocked (because come on I'm not the wittiest chick around), I just have a hard time writing about it.....and talking about it. Besides, who wants to hear about it?

Yesterday was my mother's birthday. I had considered writing a post about her but I just couldn't do it. I spent the majority of the day alone (hubby had to work last night) and probably consumed more food for dinner and post dinner than I have in a normal single day. Have I ever mentioned I'm an emotional eater? However that's a subject for another day.

I understand why all this is hard. It was the first birthday. The first of many firsts...Thanksgiving, Christmas, Mother's Day, my parent's anniversary. I just never thought it would be this hard. I mean, yeah, I know losing someone you love is devastating, yada, yada, yada, but death is part of life? Right? I just never expected this. This huge dark cloud that at times makes it difficult to breathe. The crying. Every day, two or three times a day. At work, in the shower, driving. Anything sets it off. Songs are especially difficult.

A local grief counseling center offered a class on coping with grief during the holidays. I left during the first break. I just couldn’t handle all the touchy, feely, shit. Especially with strangers. Actually I can’t talk about it with people I know either. I can’t talk about it with hubby, my friends, my siblings, or my dad. It’s just so OVERWHELMING. I’m just worried that if I start saying all this stuff out loud it just becomes more real and I don’t think I can handle it.

I just want to stop feeling this way. I feel like a robot. On the outside I go about my regular activities and everything is normal. On the inside, I’m a complete wreck. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in over two weeks. I fall asleep, but I can’t stay that way. I’m completely exhausted. I chatted about it with the nurse the other day when I went to get my Depo-Provera shot. She thinks that eventually I’ll just crash however in the meantime she’s a bit concerned I’ll get sick. Apparently lack of rest compromises your immune system. I just feel like I’m operating on autopilot. I want it to end. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.
Is it this hard for everyone? Am I whining too much? I just am not use to feeling like this. So..out of control where my emotions are concerned.

If I could just fast forward to after Christmas I’d be happy.

Thursday Ten, The Vodka Edition

I stole this from The Mom Chronicles. I probably don't do it justice, but here it goes.

1. Tonight I'm chatting online with my friend Denise aka pictaker66 on twitter and I mention that I have to go because Lasagna and wine is awaiting me and she replies that she'll be right over and I answer, come on! And about fifteen minutes later there she is having dinner with myself and my family.

2. Of course a rule of having dinner with us is that you have to participate in Food For Talk, which, btw, is an excellent way to get your family to have actual conversation during dinner. Not that my family needed it because seriously my children never shut up.

3. Tonight's question was based on "Anger is only one letter away from danger." What dangerous things can happen when you're angry? Beav used it as an opportunity to exploit the fact that yours truly has a very bad temper. I do, I admit it. There is no door safe from my slamming when I'm pissed off, but hey it keeps me from throwing things......sometimes.

4. Dinner was enjoyable because A) I didn't have to cook it; B) both my children were actually present and c) one of my best friends was there to enjoy it with us.

5. I can't even begin to tell you how blessed I am to have the great friends I have. Seriously, I could write about it for days. It was just nice to sit and visit. And drink wine. And some cranberry juice with Vodka.

6. I had to drink the Cranberry Juice with Vodka because my back is seriously killing me. You would think with all the kickboxing I do that I would be somewhat flexible however it seems that last night's marital activities (use your imagination ladies and gentlemen) used some muscles that apparently I don't use in every day life. It hurts...a lot.

7. Of course that won't stop be from pursuing the same types of activities again. Maybe in a few moments from now. I'm sure that's more than you ever wanted to know about me.

8. My husband, however, is mighty proud of himself and prepared for a round two. I'm all for it, but tonight, I'm so not going to be the cowgirl....if you know what I mean.

9. I must admit I'm enjoying this newfound sexual drive that I have. The last few months have been rough; grief is not compatible with my sex drive, apparently, however, for the time being I seem to be on an upward swing. Perhaps I'm gearing up for the rough Thanksgiving ahead.

10. In the meantime I will enjoy my husband and my friends (although I enjoy them differently). Perhaps I should change that to "time with my husband and my friends." Hell, you know what I mean. Tomorrow night is fight night, I'm not participating but I will be there to encourage my boxing buddies and prepare myself for six months from now when I take the ring.

And that is my Thursday Ten. Not as eloquent as The Mom Chronicles but I'd like to remind everyone that Vodka is involved.

all our friends they say to let you go but they don't know you're still breathing

I tried, really I did. However, hubby making dinner, yeah, that’s about over. It’s not because I’m a control freak, it’s not, it’s not, it’s not (ok maybe a little), it’s just that well, he can’t cook. It’s more bad than good and while I’m so super thankful that he wants to help, I just can’t take it anymore. I knew the end was near when I found myself explaining why you couldn’t cook chicken, shred it up and use it in Hamburger Helper. He just kept saying ‘but it says you can use turkey’ and I kept answering, ‘yes, ground turkey’ and it just went back and forth like that for awhile. He gets points for trying though.

My dad and one of my brothers drove down Saturday night to see me get baptized on Sunday morning. They could only stay until Sunday afternoon so it was a short visit but it was so nice to see them. Yes, I know most people handle the baptism thing when they’re younger, but I’m a slow bloomer like that. Made my dad proud as hell though which hopefully makes up for me arriving home in the short pirate skirt and patent leather knee high boots (I was at a costume party when he got here, I promise).

I’m apprehensive as hell about Thanksgiving. My sis and I are cooking together at my dad’s house. There’s no doubt that it’s going to be difficult. On the positive side my family has an amazing sense of humor so I know there will be lots of laughter and memory sharing amidst the tears. My dad has decided to move, so it’s the last time we will be together at mom and dad’s house which adds a bit more sadness to the event. And my mom’s birthday is on the 22nd so as you can see, it’s just a tough month. My church is offering a class/group therapy meeting for individuals who have recently lost someone and are having trouble coping with the holidays. Hubby thinks it might be a good idea if I go and I’m inclined to believe him.

Other than that things are busy here in the Diva household…..busy but good, except the check engine light is on in our “good” car and I have a feeling it’s something ominous….and expensive. In fact I’m pretty sure of it because every time I manage to build up my savings account something comes along and wipes most of it out. Brother (former mechanic) told me to wait it out a bit, he thinks it might be poor fuel or water in the fuel because the light popped on right after I filled up. He knows his stuff so I’m hoping he’s right.

I know everyone has been blogging about the election tomorrow. All I can say is I’ve already voted so for me, the pressure is off. All I ask is please vote. Please.