The Train Tracks

In the past 9 weeks, since June 28^th, I have put a little over 6,000 miles on my car.  When you are the only local child that can drive to take care of parent issues, you tend to rack up the miles on your car when there is distance between you and the parents.  Both my car and I are exhausted.

June 28^th I drive down to meet my parents at the hospital to watch over Mom while she was in the hospital and help with recovery afterward.  She never recovered.  And then it was a flurry driving back and forth between Atlanta and the small southwest Georgia home where they lived. And every weekend, I have driven down to help sort things out.  Every weekend but two.

My Dad wants to go down every weekend to fix things like burned out light bulbs, outlet covers and things like that.  The house is for sale and he is convinced no one will buy the compound if one single light bulb is burned out or if they do not like the outlet covers.

So, when in this situation and absolutely exhausted and overwhelmed, how do you put your parent on restriction?  How do I look at my Dad and say “Dad, I love you, but you are grounded.  You are not allowed to leave town until there is actually a problem with the house”?  Because I need a break.  I need to be home for a weekend to do laundry, because I need to sort through Mom’s things that you have brought up here, because I need to sleep…because I just need to take a breath and NOT drive 1,000 miles in a weekend.

When you are feeling overwhelmed, part of the cure is to set firm boundaries so you can begin to get things under control.  How does that work when it’s your parents, and they need things too?  I guess it is the same as if he were a child.  And that is what it feels like a bit.  So how to go through and take care of myself and him and the boyfriend and the job and the house and the cooking and the cleaning and the looking for a new larger place and the everything else and still handle my own grief?  I am tired just writing it.

Most of the time when life gets hard, my answer has been to put my head down and work hard and just do it – whatever it is that needs to be done. But the loss of a parent is very different.  The very person I would call to inspire me, talk to me when exhausted and just give a kind word is gone.  So what now?

I am not sure.  I have found that being thrown out of my comfort zone also means not knowing a thing about what I am doing or how to do it.  Sometimes you may just have to accept that fact that it is just going to be bad. It will be difficult, exhausting, hard, emotional and will push you too your limits.  But no one said that life would be easy all of time.  No one promised us a rose garden.  And this is not where you will read how much the hard times will make you better.  Because quite frankly, I am not sure how the death of a parent can make a person better.  Once you have gone through it you can empathize with others in a way that you could not have before…but that is as optimistic as I can be.

So this is just going to be one of those hard times.  This is going to be one of those times where it seems that nothing is working, nothing is moving forward, nothing is getting done, nothing is getting better.  That I don’t even have time to do laundry, much less to things enjoyable like watch a favorite TV show.  There really have been few moments to enjoy, because there is too much to do.  This may be one of the times when you have to let the train run over you and pray you aren’t too messed up when it’s over.

And here I am. Dusty, tired, a little scraped up…but here.

Redefintion

It would be easy to call this redefined, but to me a stronger word is needed. To redefinition is to define something from scratch.  When you really have no clue, but have to figure it out anyway.  This is where I am.

There are a few things to redefinition in my life.  First, life is great, all things considered.  A great career, a great company, a wonderful relationship, amazing, supportive, loving friends.  I am very lucky and blessed.  But even with all of that, there is a lot of figuring out.

Happiness:  Happiness after the loss of a loved one feels different.  I am a happy person by default, having an upbeat disposition.  But I am acutely aware of who is missing.  Wanting to call and not being able.  But knowing she is here with me, watching over me, saying hello with little signs.  There is happiness in these things.

Family:  Now the family unit must be redefinitioned (yes that is a word, at least in my dictionary).  Mom is gone now.  And my closest sister in age and geography has stepped out of the picture, no longer wanting to be a part of mine or Dad’s life.  So I must figure out how to be a family now.  Thank goodness there are 3 other siblings on which to lean and who are being very supportive. My answer? LOVE.  What will that look like for Dad’s 80^th birthday?  Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years?  I have no idea.  But surely there is enough love out there to figure it out.

Adulting:  Crap. This means I have to be an adult.  I still have trouble putting my pants on without falling on my face.  I have no idea what I am doing, or how to do it. Unless it involves falling, tripping and breaking my toes.  I would like to think that I will get through this with Grace and Humor.  More than likely it will be a lot of long pauses, awkward moments and blank stares. The role of Humor will be played by those who are watching.  I know, you aren’t laughing at me, you are laughing near me…

Love:  Holy crap, do I have enough love to fill the void of Mom, sister, her three sons? I have no idea, but certainly with faith and prayer I will find out.  It’s going to be rough, but it can be done.  People do it every day, so we can too.  And no doubt there will be plenty of laughter along the way, as there always is.  That is the thing about life – we may never know or understand the roads on which we end up traveling, but we can at least make the best of it.

Grief: I have no idea what grief looks like, but I have a feeling that I am deeply in the middle of a staring contest with it.  I am going to win too.  After going through all of the phases, which I am not even sure of what they are called.  But a rose by any other name…so does it really matter?  I imagine grief and I will become quite good friends before the end. So I hope it likes coffee and wine.  And soft pillows.

Every day: Slowly I am getting my groove back.  Getting back to work, being productive…not bursting out in tears every hour.  That is pretty huge.  My co-workers were beginning to think my puffy eyes and red nose were a permanent thing.  Life is getting back to being a series of serious and comedic moments.  Living with an 80-year-old is an adventure.  He likes it really warm. As in 90 degrees feels good to him.  Like when we ordered pizza. And he wanted to eat it outside. When it was 93 degrees.  My boyfriend and I are melting, trying to eat this hot pizza, sweat pouring out of use like were are made of holes.  Meanwhile, Dad is oblivious, even putting hot sauce on his slice commenting on what a nice evening it was.  But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Holidays:  See above family.  Just an expansion.  Mom held everything together.  Now we have to figure it out on our own.  For sure there will be a big Christmas tree.  Her ornaments.  Wrapping. And wrapping. And wrapping.  Hot chocolate. Cats. A big fireplace.  And not sure what else.  We will figure it out when we get there. Redefinition.

Decoration:  I already had a stuffed house before my boyfriend moved in.  Now more things with Dad.  I am discovering the lost art of cleaning out, throwing away things I haven’t used or worn in years to make room for…more stuff.  It is liberating and slightly scary.  When was the last time you looked in those boxes that have been packed for the last 20 years??  Yep, did that a few weeks ago.  And everywhere you look, there is a painting, picture, piece of furniture.  And whatever you do, do not open that closet door!

Dinner time:  We usually cook every night anyway, but it is pretty cool to have another at the dinner table at night.  And then after dinner conversations.  Beer or wine on the patio.  TV?  At some point I will have to binge watch everything I have missed and am missing.  I may need to book at “Bedcation” to catch up.

Gardening:  In addition to lots of stuff, I have inherited about 40 plants.  Except I am not good with plants, but I am determined to changed that.  Everything from a Delicious Monster, or a Staghorn Fern, to rubber tree plants, to a ficus benjamina, to many cacti, to other green things, this is going to be a very leafy adventure (hopefully). There are plants everywhere in the yard, and this winter, my house will be the greenhouse. Should be interesting with the cats…

Working out:  Help! My fat pants seem to have shrunk in the laundry…Or maybe I just need to get to the gym, eventually.  Between working and everything else, the gym, or even working out at home, seems like a distant fantasy. It’s a shame redefinitioning doesn’t burn any calories, because if it did I would be in my skinny jeans.

No doubt many others have redefinitioned these things too, and more.  The great thing about life is that we do get to make up our own rules, we do get to write how we want it.  And whatever these things are, I want them to be stuffed with Love.  Like a giant stuff olive (can you tell I am hungry?)

The Legacy

One month, this past weekend.  That is how long it has been.  Since I heard her voice, gave her a hug, held her hand. One month since I saw her breathing and take her last breath, surrounded by family.  It seems like a lifetime ago, yet it has only been a month.

She was anorexic, and subsequently died from complications of severe malnutrition (something which I will write about later).  Her little body did not have the strength or energy to fight the pneumonia.  And the heart cannot continue beating when the body has lost the ability to process food.  She was between 65-68lbs when she died.

But through it all I see God’s Grace in taking care of us.  My contract ended suddenly two months ago, just in time for the sibling reunion, and for taking care of Mom when she went in for surgery.  I was truly able to dedicate my time and attention to her. I was able to help her when it was clear recovery was not possible. And how thankful I am for that time, even as difficult as it was.

Learning to function again after the passing of a parent can be a challenge.  But I am my mother’s daughter, and as such I will meet the challenge.  At an early age, my mother taught me that no matter what happens in life, no matter how bad, or traumatic, or hurtful…it is but one thing.  And your life, my life, is so much bigger than that, or any one thing.  So you must continue.

And I have, slowly.  Going back to work, doing little daily tasks like cooking or cleaning.  But you slowly get the hang of it again.  I keep hearing my mother’s voice telling me to get up, get moving.  It’s just a little death. And life is bigger than death.

And how different things look now than they did just six weeks ago, two months ago.  A new job, Dad living with us now and no Mom. More furniture and things than we ever thought would fit into the house, several trips to the family compound, the compound being put up for sale, six cats and seven guns.

But if there is one constant that I have learned, is that life is full of change.  And when we find ourselves in the middle of the winds of change, love is what can get us through.  And my life is full of love. Mom is here, around, I feel it.  And I try to honor her in small things that I do every day.  My friends have all been so supportive, lifting me, even carrying me when needed. My wonderful boyfriend has been an amazing rock, letting me cry, and my father. Yes, love is everywhere.  And that is my mother’s legacy.

The Blessing of a Broken Heart

It is a blessing to have a broken heart. It is a blessing to cry rivers, even oceans of tears.  It is a blessing to feel loss so deep that you wonder if you can even breath.

This may sound ridiculous.  But to me it means that I have truly loved enough to feel that loss.  My mother and I were very close.  And her passing has left a terrible loss in my life.  But I would not trade that loss for anything.

Because it is attached to my wonderful childhood, to being taught silly songs when I was little, being read to, being made to do my homework. It is attached to hot chocolate on a night when I could not sleep, and too many hugs to be able to count.

Heartbreak and heartache never get easier.  Losing those you love never gets easier. But no one said that life would be easy.  That was never promised to us.  And when our heart is breaking, is it not because whoever it was gave us joy and love?  The amount of joy and love conversely reflects in the amount of the pain.

So let it rain. Let the floods wash my soul and heart clean, let the love of those I have lost carry me through. And let the love of those who are in my life now fill in the cracks, so that all my pieces are put back.

So if it hurts because I loved them so much, then that is OK. I want to love. That is part of living a full life. And that is the blessing of a broken heart.

Five Year Reflection

Five Year reflection

It has been five years this month since I was brutally attacked and nearly strangled to death by my then boyfriend. And I was not going to write a post about it, because life has moved so far past that event.  But there are many women who experience violence at the hands of the man they loved and trusted, so this is what I have learned having been through it and survived.  These are things I wish someone had told me:

• It is not your fault: No matter what you did, what you said, how you were dressed or how long you stayed, it is not your fault. You did nothing to provoke him or deserve being hit be the man you loved and trusted. That is on him. He is an adult and he is responsible for his actions. Not you.  Even when he blames you and says it is your fault, it’s not.   And no matter how many other people say it’s your fault, it’s not (we’ll get to that later). Remember that.
• Get Counseling: I did.  You will need a safe space to talk to, beyond family and friends.  Being attacked will affect you in many ways. Taking care of yourself during this time is very important.  You may have PTSD, you may have nightmares, you may have flashbacks, you may have panic attacks, you may feel angry, depressed or like you are going crazy. You are not going crazy.  But seeing a counselor will help you get through this experience as quickly as possible. If you have trouble sleeping, see about getting on Ambien or similar. If you are getting depressed, ask about being temporarily put on an antidepressant.  It’s all about you and making sure you are OK.
• This isn’t the first time: If he or anyone else says that this is the first time he hit a woman or was violent – it’s not. Do not believe them. This is not the first time. You are not the first woman. And, you will probably not be the last either.
• It is not personal: It is extremely personal to you, but not to him.  You were just there. But no matter if it was you, or Sally down the street, he would have done it to whoever he was with. It just happened to be you. This time. Abuse is about control and power.  It is not because you did anything wrong, it is not because he was angry, it is not because he had a bad childhood and no one understands him. It is not because of anything other than power and control.
• Verbal before physical: Before he will ever hit you, he will be verbally abusive. This may be obvious like yelling at you or calling you names.  Or, most times, it starts out very subtle and before you know it, you just feel bad about yourself, but may not be able to put your finger on it.  You just feel stupid all the time…especially when you are around him.  Many times the emotional abuse goes deeper and is worse.  Because when you have a bruise you can point to it and say he hurt me…but when it’s emotional…what can you say?  He hurt my feelings?  He made me cry?  Many times we are told we are too sensitive or are being trivial, over reacting or suffering PMS…You are not.  You have been wounded.
• You are not stupid: He probably didn’t start out as an asshole when you started seeing him. He was probably charming and attentive. He was a con artist.  You are not stupid because you fell for him. You were just taken in by a con.  And it happens to a lot of women. You are not alone. Thousands, maybe even millions of women have been through this. And they survived. You will too.  And if people are talking or gossiping about it? Yes it is mortifying, but you’ll get through that too.  Because no matter they are, or how together they have it, at some point everyone has relationship drama.
• The police are not Always on your side: When it comes to law enforcement, there is a lot of victim blaming.  I naively thought the police believe the good guys and go after the bad guys.  It can be the way around when it comes to domestic violence.  You will be asked what you did to provoke him, you will be asked personal things in condescending and accusing tones.  You may even be blamed…for everything.  I was blamed for leaving the first time he hit me, another woman I know was blamed for staying too long in the relationship.  I was blamed for being swift and thorough – I went to the cops immediately, assisted officers in locating my attacker, and lured him to the area when the police arrested him.  And then was called a vindictive actress by the assistant DA.  Another woman was blamed for waiting too long, and giving her attacker too many chances after several violent attacks.  Basically, it doesn’t matter what you did, you may be blamed.  Don’t listen.  Know in your heart that you did the best you could. And that is enough. You are enough.
• He knows how to work the system: Because you are not the first person he has hit, or the first time he has been in trouble for it, he knows the legal system better than you.  That might mean not answering the door to avoid being served with a restraining order (if he can’t be served the order will be dismissed). Hire a process server to hunt him down at work, at the store, or where ever to get him served.  You can even do a service by publication. When he does get served, he will be charming, extremely charismatic and he will paint himself as the victim.  He may get an attorney.  And he may be vindictive and try to bring charges against you, accusing you of petty or untrue things.  People like that know exactly what they are doing. They know how to dance on that line of harassing and not get arrested.  My attacker tried to get me arrested for fighting back when he attacked me, saying that I attacked him, and that he had injuries and needed to be compensated. I thankfully got a female judge who recognized what he was doing and dismissed it. He would contact me constantly but not say anything threatening…and law enforcement would do nothing because he “was being nice.” He also contracted my friends and family harassing them.  Again the police said that there was nothing they could do. Then when I tried to get a restraining order against him, he taunted me by sending me emails saying he did not have to answer the door, and described my friend’s houses, and even what one of their daughters looked like going to school.  Law enforcement said he was doing nothing illegal because he was not threatening anyone. Laws for stalking have come a long way in the last five years, so it may be easier to get something done now.  Just be prepared for a master manipulations of the system.
• Get an attorney: And make sure it is a good one who specializes in domestic violence and understands the personality of an attacker – that he will be slick and manipulative.  Even an open and close case can be dismissed if your attorney doesn’t take it seriously.
• Some of your friends will blame you: IGNORE THEM. They are not your friends. They are wrong. It is not your fault, you did nothing to deserve this, you did not ask for it, you did nothing but open your heart to love and trust another.  This happened to me and it was both shocking and incredible hurtful. These were strong, professional women who had been close friends.  They looked at me and told me I asked for it because I invited this person into my life.  That it was my fault for provoking him and having a life so full of drama, it was my fault because I should have known better.  These “ladies” were supposed to be my friends. I was shocked that they would take his side, some for them even becoming friends with him.  It may sound silly, but it is their loss.  They are not your friends; they are weak petty women who would rather point fingers at you because that is easier than supporting you.  Leave them in the dust and don’t look back.  Your true friends will be supportive, understanding and patient. They will love you and help you.
• You have the right to be shitty: Great advice given to me by one of the wonderful, kind, supportive women who stood by me after the attack.  That means you have the right to be mad, emotional, moody, whatever.  You have the right to feel however way you want to feel. For as long as you want to feel it.  You have the right to fall apart, to be depressed, to be whatever. You have the right to tell all of your friends you need an emergency lunch, then decide you don’t want to eat anything.  And your friends will love you anyway.  So give yourself time and permission to be shitty.
• Lean on your friends: Let them stay with you or you stay with them.  Call them when you feel scared, or just bad.  Let them help you through this.
• This does not and will not define you: It feels like it does now.  It feels like a definite divide between before and after.  But it won’t always be that way. It will rule your life for a period of time, especially if it is going through the legal system (and you have to relive it over and over). But after time, what happened will just be a memory. It will just be a bad moment.  Eventually there will be enough miles and time and life and distance between that you will say yes, this once happened to me, but I am still me.
• You will be OK: It may not seem like it now, but you will be OK. And this will make you a better, stronger, finer, more compassionate person.  When you get on the other side of this, you will be scarred. But scar tissue is stronger than the original.  And you will be too.
• You will never be the same, and that’s OK: it took a while for me to accept this, because I just wanted to go back to the way I was, the way life was, before the attack.  There is an innocence that is lost when another human being tries to kill you, especially as violent as strangling you.  Because that is so close, so violent, so angry and you can see into their eyes when they are doing it. You see that kind of evil and it changes you.  You cannot go back to who and what you were before you saw that.  But that is OK. Because now that is part of you. And you have the choice – keep it as a ball and chain to keep you down and make you bitter, or use it as a stepping stone to rise above it to become stronger.  I chose the latter and hope you do too.
• Not all men are bad: It is easy to think that all men are bad after being attacked.  But very, very few men ever hit a woman. I remember right after the attack being at the airport and looking out at men in the crown, wondering “has he hit a woman before?” Has that man ever tried to strangle a woman?”  And I remember telling my therapist that I look forward to the day that I don’t see a man and wonder that.  Five years later I am with a wonderful man, who loves me and is so kind.  You will find one like that too. But just concentrate on healing for now.

There are many other things, but that is enough for this blog, for now.