Month: March 2016

Dreaming Another Nightmare

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Isn’t it funny how when you’re younger, your future plays out in a certain format? Your dreams follow this ‘ideal’ timeline of pure perfection! Life was going to be damn near perfect in every manner, there really wasn’t much I hadn’t dreamed up in my fantasy world – except that part where the train derails and I end up in bumfuck Egypt in the middle of my own shit storm that I really thought couldn’t get worse, but oh wait – IT JUST DID!
Let’s just rewind to the fairytale for a minute. Back to the dream land of getting a collage degree in Education, followed by being married by the age of 23, 1st child no later then the age of 25 (I didn’t want to be an old parent!) Then 2, maybe 3 more kids every 2-3 years to follow, I wanted them spaced just perfectly in age! I would have a nanny so my kids didn’t have to go to a daycare with other bratty kids! They’d be in a private elementary school in a larger community when they were younger so they learned diversity and the importance of it, but by middle school, we’d transfer to a smaller school system, so they could learn and appreciate the importance of a smaller community, I wanted to know the parents of my kids’ friends, and them to know everyone they graduated with,  like I was fortunate to have growing up. I’d be happily married for years, we’d travel a lot and my kids would have a lot of great experiences and memories, hopefully building the basis of their future by being curious of the huge world out there! We’d eventually move to the country overlooking the mountains to retire and enjoy the peace and quiet. Uh, life was going to be so great – god I couldn’t wait!

And then – one day – I woke up to a very different reality – back in Egypt. I was standing in the middle of a very different dream, more like nightmare, not knowing exactly how I managed to end up there!

Instead it went something along the lines of being 18, having a blast partying and working, going to the local college that I knew in my gut wasn’t going to pan out, but I played along with the role and ‘tried’ it. By trying it I mean I passed 2 of the 4 classes the 1st semester, the only 2 I was interested in to begin with, which was English and Psych. Instead I focused more on how damn good it felt to be living on my own, with 4 other good friends of mine, hanging with my new, good looking and older boyfriend, being free of rules, demands and chores and just plain loving life! This older boyfriend was eight and a half years older, which, at 18, is a big deal! Age is just a number on many levels, but at certain times in our lives, age does matter (I know mom – finally I got it! Better late then never 😉 ) I was with someone who was in a relationship, although I understood it at that time that it had ended (by ended, I believe he had moved out a few days prior), and I was also recently out of a relationship, for about a week (yeah – I know – total saints  – for sure). So, even though I more then knew better, he seemed very interested and I wanted it to be what I knew it wasn’t – but I still really wanted it to be what he made it appear to be!

As if age alone wasn’t a factor, the fact that he worked for my dad and was very close to him, was an obstacle in itself. But, rebellion was still running thick in my blood – so I ran with it, secretly hesitant, but outwardly, I’m sure I appeared cocky. I will never forget sitting in my parents kitchen, explaining to my less then impressed, quite frankly – my pissed off mother, that it was going to be just fine! The only thing I remember out of that entire ass chewing was her saying ‘you are nothing but a rebound to him and he is nothing but an infatuation to you.” Ouch. That stung. That stung alot – but what stung even more was when I had to call her bawling at 5 a.m. four months later – after my friend and I showed up at his exes house, banging on the door at midnight wondering why he was with her and didn’t have the balls to come to the door! (I’ve had prouder moments – yes).

I remember that sick heavy brick that festered in the pit of my gut for weeks after that night. I remember the replays, waiting for the next phone call, the begging, more lies, more apologies and finally, after making him ‘prove’ himself – me giving in. The ‘proving himself’ part consisted of him having to go explain himself to my mom, since she was the one that had to deal with 5 a.m. phone calls after months of seeing it for face value, I figured he could start there (not thinking he actually would!) This was the beginning of many more years worth of anger, manipulation, game playing and drama that I learned to play along with. Giving into something I knew wasn’t true, but again, I wanted it to be. Besides, he had spent years with her, of course he was going to go back, he still loved her on some level, how couldn’t he, maybe if I were thinner, older, more stable, more wise it wouldn’t have happened. Note for this next time around I guess, right? Welcome to my thought process!

I think more then my hate for him was the hate for myself, the way I held out for so long, just to give back in at the last minute. The hate for believing it, wanting it to be different then it what it was, but not knowing what that meant. Hating myself for not being what he wanted, for feeling the need to compete against other women, the bottle – anything. Hating myself for giving into the drama and nonsense, thinking every other ‘next time’ was going to be different then the previous last times. Hating myself for allowing the lies to flow so easily, for getting bogged down by it all, to the point of no longer caring, for giving into it, when I fought so hard not too, for so long. Hating myself for seeing it before it happened and yet waiting – almost wanting in some sick way – for it to happen again so I had a reason to bail again. I became reliant on the next fuck up, it kept us both fueled with anger, hate and drama – just to need some sick reason to make it all ‘better’ again – for a little bit anyways. And when it really came down to it, what I hated more then him – was myself – that I gave up me for him – that I changed my life, goals, dreams, morals and beliefs to fit something that was never in alignment with me to begin with. I hated myself for giving into the fear every time – the fear that he’d change for the next one and that I may miss being truly happy with him, fear that my daughter might not have the chance of knowing her parents to have a good, stable and loving relationship, fear that I might be alone forever, and that maybe I should be thankful he’s with me at all. That I thought I could change or ‘fix’ him – when it wasn’t about that – it was about 2 people that became miserable together on account of their own insecurities that were never resolved, caught in this vicious cycle that became routine, one that subconsciously we both thrived on. It was about 2 people that simply didn’t belong together, that again, tried to force pieces of the puzzle to fit, that were never meant to fit. It wasn’t about ‘training’ him ‘my’ way, with ‘better’ morals or expectations of him wanting the same family life I did, it wasn’t about ‘owning’ him or forcing him into things that quite obviously he wasn’t interested in, as his actions always showed it. He did fight for me on many levels, perhaps more then he had in previous relationships and perhaps in some ways- we could’ve been more – but not at that point in our lives. It had become so toxic, so full of mind games, when one was ready to party, the other didn’t want to leave the house, when one wanted to be saving money for a house, the other couldn’t blow it fast enough, when one was ready for marriage, the other wouldn’t even utter the word. We were rarely on the same page and when we were, it felt like we were on top of the world, that one week you would’ve sworn lasted 2 years without a single fight! ha Those short intervals were what I began to cling too, because that’s all I had – and they became fewer and farther between. And when push comes to shove – timing is always everything. After Josie, any speck of interest I had left, any excitement about moving forward in our lives, anything to do with him at all – was lost on every level within 24 hours after she died. As if the animosity wasn’t already there before – it intensified after that – he was to blame on every level for anything and everything I never did or didn’t do with her. And that was the beginning of the grand finale to follow – the one that trumped all other trumps. But then again, I guess that’s what happens when you choose to live in a fantasy world, talking each other, and ultimately yourselves into truths that weren’t ours.

 

Uncharted Waters

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As much as I’ve tried to avoid this topic, it just keeps coming back to me! This entry began on something totally different and came right back to this. I’ve written and rewritten it in my head many times, but no matter how much I try and avoid it, it flows through my fingertips as if it’s supposed too. I honestly am not looking for a debate and I’m hoping it doesn’t cause one – but being that it’s a reoccurring theme – I’m feeling obligated to chance it. So, here we go!

It’s hard for me not to get angered and bothered by many of the things going on in the world today, and this has been festering for me personally, for all of 4 years. To see a different angle of the world and humanity as a whole, along with government, big pharma, insurance companies, politicians, corporate America and anyone that has been spoon fed it all their lives (oh no wait, that’s been 99% of us!) I spent the last election season literally piiiiissed at the world the entire campaigning season, I raged about all of it (Mary and Brittany I’d like to apologize for all of those rants 😉 ) because I hated what was going on behind the scenes that noone was willing nor able to see or hear. That was the first time I repeated on a regular basis, ‘I think this country needs a revolution’, that’s the only thing I could think of that would get people’s attention and instead of pointing fingers at each other, perhaps they’d start pointing them where I thought they deserved to be – those that are causing this shit show of a mess! And contrary to MANY beliefs, it isn’t just one person, nor one party or another – it’s far bigger then that. It’s a matrix that we’ve all been spoon fed, one that is ingrained within us at a very deep level – to believe that one party or person is better or superior then another. It is one that feeds debate and hate – it, like religion, has given people another reason to hate each other, another reason to fight, another reason to blame, another reason to dehumanize another on account of superiority.

I honestly hate discussing the shit because I don’t think one is better then another, I think it’s a scam and one we all play into well. We expect ONE person to change things and when our idea of change doesn’t happen, then it gives us a reason to blame and hate them or their party. And the thing is, we’re hating on one person that we know damn well doesn’t have the sole power to make these changes! Isn’t that the point of the American Judicial System, to come together for the common good? I don’t see any of that, and maybe that’s the negativity of my mindset showing forth, only seeing the horror that’s being caused, but this election, that’s all I seem to see.

I can not stand to glance at a picture of Syrian refugees – men, women or children and not almost break down. I can not stand to wonder if that was me and my family and we were hated to such extremes, being hunted like animals, to think of having to watch my daughter starve while we try to escape to stay alive – FOR WHAT? I am always trying to tell my daughter “those kids didn’t ask for that” or “they didn’t chose to be that color, just like we didn’t choose to be white, females or American – they don’t deserve that kind of treatment on account of what they were born into – just like we don’t deserve to be superior because of it.”

   

This mentality of all things such as politics, religion, racism, sexism is nothing but us thinking we’re superior to the next. It doesn’t promote empathy or sympathy of other human beings, it promotes entitlement, greed and power. I don’t want to hear the latest debate or who is going to make more empty ‘promises’ to change, even if there is good and real intention behind it –  because they aren’t the ones calling the shots in the end! (Which is another reason I don’t watch TV or read the news!) I hope people start to take a step back and really ask themselves why they believe the things they do, why they’re supporters of a certain party or what they stand for and is that their true, honest belief, or is it because of what your family, friends, community or society has always done? Is it because of certain trigger words that are being said? Is it because the media has portrayed one aspect of a much larger spectrum? Is what you expect from a party or candidate something that you personally do in your own daily life? That question can go either way, good or bad – do you have those same qualities? Do you hate Muslims to the extent that you’d be willing to stand there and watch them and their children burn at the stake – even the innocent ones? Would you be willing to stand at the shore and watch them drown with their children in life boats after days of being lost at sea? I’m not even just talking about these larger issues – even on a ‘smaller’ scale, would you be willing to pull the trigger on your neighbor because he votes different on the ballot then you? Do you still shop at all corporate places and support the one percent, but expect one individual to take them down single handedly in office? Do you treat the earth like shit but expect them to clean the oceans of pollution? Do you support Monsanto/GMO’s etc. but hate God for the fatal diseases that are taking the lives of so many you love?

I will be the first to admit, I am not in total alignment with all of these ‘beliefs’ I have. It’s not to say we can change all of this, especially by election time and it doesn’t mean we won’t have a government or that we won’t still need to vote, but it does mean more then you think. From Walmart, to factory farms, to McDonald’s, to Monsanto – do you know how many small town businesses they’ve driven out of business, how many families have had hardships and how much CONTROL they have over us because of it? I’m willing to bet you couldn’t fathom! Half of them sit on the FDA boards, keeping us ‘safe’, while paying off who they can in the Senate and House. But – do you know what they depend on? They depend on their consumers – that’s US – that’s the PEOPLE. Do you know what happens when WE start making a stand in a different way, in a non violent, non hateful, non bloodshed way – instead by simply choosing to redirect our dollars to the little man, or educate ourselves on the food and pharmaceutical industries? That’s when you get headlines like “Walmart plans to close 269 stores this year, including 154 in the US.”

For all looking to take a stand – to have the final say – maybe we should quit hating the next guy so much, maybe we should think of the mom overseas fighting to feed her child, who would kill to have our hardships, maybe we should think for just a moment during our ‘superior’ days of what is considered luxury to many, what it would be like to watch your kids, nieces, nephews, or grandchildren die in your arms on account of lack of a 10$ vaccination, a 3$ meal, clean drinking water – on account of hate, on account of thinking one size fits all, if one is bad, let’s kill them all, on account of ignorance, on account of lack of human compassion, on account of not listening to our own inner self and giving into the matrix that they want us too – to feed off of hate and blame.

The only place I know I stand in all of this, is that I can’t be a supporter of a Trump. To know this is something that we, as a country are supporting – makes me sick. To think we’d rather have a well run ‘business led country’ versus one that is based off of values and morals may be one of the most heartbreaking things in our history yet. Remember in history class when we learned about Hitler, remember when we said ‘never ever would we allow that – why didn’t they stop it’ – well maybe we should ask if we are allowing it? On a scale both big and small? Seriously ask yourself – remind yourself that they simply hated Jews because they could – because they were taught too. On many levels, we’re all Hitler to some degrees, and the mentality that an eye for an eye is going to make us richer or better, that our flag will fly higher, that our lives will be happier or that our bank accounts will be bigger – is a hoax we’ve all sadly fed into. One that has yet to get us any of that. And I guess if that’s all you’re striving for on this human plane – then you’re on the right path! For all others, take it down a level – take it down to the individual level – to your home, your kids, your life – what impact are you making? Trump, Hilary, Sanders – whatever – whoever – what about YOU?!

I dare you to look at these photos and not try and put yourself in this picture, I dare you to not feel any sort of sympathy or human compassion for these people. There are starving mouths just as much here as anywhere – but this war between us all, this reason to disagree or fight isn’t helping anyone either.

 

 

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Russian Roulette

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After a last minute decision to hit up a bar that was recommended by a local in Madison that’s known for it’s great vibe and even better drink concoctions, we decided to give it a try. As we were standing at the bar discussing what sounded good, a guy to my right said “Russian Roulette – let the bartender choose.” As much as I loved the idea and the random comment, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. I mean I’d sure hate to waste money on a drink that I might not like! 😉 So, as I tend to do, I had to know what I’d be handed and ordered my go-to vodka water with a splash of cranberry – which just so happened to taste like shit! Ha But, my cousin, Liz, told the bartender “Russian roulette” and landed a killer drink that turned into our drink of the night.

This got me to thinking, how could I apply those 2 words to my life? Maybe they need to be a little more prevalent, maybe it’s something, in certain areas of my life I need to learn to gamble with. As with any of us, I think it’s fair to say, we are laid back in certain areas of our lives while uptight in others. Certain aspects are triggers for us, forcing us to feel as though we need to be either proactive &/or reactive/responsive, while other areas we are just fine ‘going with the flow’. While I’ve tried really hard to loosen up in all areas of my life, the more I start to let go in some, the more I find myself clinging to control in other areas. Whether it’s a certain circumstance playing out in my head, thinking it has to be a certain way in order for it to work or finding myself fighting certain things that are happening around or within me, not wanting to accept them as they are, it seems I still feel as if I have to have some power or control.

When I look back, I’m well aware of what a control freak I was and to some degree, still am. I was especially bad in my home life, even though to the outside eye I seemed fun and easy going. When I think back to my past relationships it’s been me having to be the caretaker or the one that ‘holds it together’, but I’ve also always had a hard time receiving or allowing myself to be open to good things or gestures. I wanted them to change and change in the way I thought was best. I think a majority of it stemmed back to not having control in major areas of the relationship, such as the need to compete with other things/people, so I took control in other aspects that I knew I had some say. I was wanting them to change for me, when really it’s just who they were and I needed to be OK with letting them go, instead of trying to force them to fit this mold that I had inside of my head. And there were also some that just plain treated me shitty and I needed to accept that as a good “no” as well! Instead of insisting on trying to force different pieces into fitting, I needed to see that they weren’t fitting for a reason and we’d both be happier being who we wanted to be instead of expecting each other to be something we weren’t.

When it came to friends and party planning – that was totally my gig! I planned everything and I loved it! Whether it was in high school – when people needed to know where the next party was, or how I was going to pull off hosting it if there wasn’t one lined up;) or who was driving (take a wild guess, yep – almost always ME, again, then I had control as to when we left, or what the outcome would be) or where we were staying. When we got older  I hosted a majority of events from wedding and baby showers to grill outs or dates with my friends and their kids, and if I didn’t, I planned or helped planned them. The time, the place, the date (that almost always revolved when would work best for me), who was bringing what food or what booze, if kids were invited, if they weren’t – the whole 9 yards. Again, looking back, I’d say it was a control aspect, and also something I felt I could take pride in, one of the few things I thought I was good at, considering I didn’t have a college degree or a home that I owned or spouses like my friends did, it’s as if I needed to compensate in other ways.

Prior to Josie, finances were a big thing for me, I always had control because he was wreckless with money and I was fearful of getting behind. It’s not to say that wasn’t the case, he was a poor money manager, never looking to feel secure or really get ahead, but I’ve also always had a fear of not being able to pay my bills or provide. This is most likely due to the fact that I watched my parents and grandparents endure many struggles related to that same thing and something that was ingrained me to always be prepared.

My house always needed to be cleaned and in tip top shape and if that didn’t happen, I wasn’t a very nice person either! I was always fearful of people coming over and it being messy and even if it wasn’t really, truly a disaster, I felt obligated to apologize or comment on it!

I find it in my parenting – that I’m trying to control or avoid her being hurt or her allowing others to be. That I want her to eat well and be healthy inside and out so I’m pushing the importance of not eating processed, crap food or drinking sugary drinks because I don’t want her to have health issues or be made of fun because she’s overweight. I’m trying to “fix or control” her as well in certain areas because of my own fear, because of things I’ve had to endure and I’m so worried she may have to face similar struggles. When  really, I need to accept that all I can do is try and guide her and allow her to make her own mistakes and fumble along the way, even if some of that does turn into heart break or poor decision making that she’ll learn from in her own way, without me just preaching about it.

But I’m realizing how many of those things are my insecurities, things that I have tried, or am trying, to control. I think a large reason of that ‘need’ comes from not having control in various aspects of my life through the years, that I focused on what I could control and took it to the extreme, many times driving people away or making them feel inferior. The need for control is just a lack in another area of our life that we don’t want to face or acknowledge, or perhaps are unsure how to gain any type of control of the reigns. Or, maybe it’s learning we don’t always need the control, it’s like attempting to swim against the current of life, thinking my way is the correct way, when really the current is trying to drag us down river, although perhaps through the ringer, to something better. The longer we spend our time and energy trying to force something or someone into fitting or changing, the more time we’ve wasted getting to where we really need to be.

I think the swimming against the current becomes a comfort after awhile, even though we’re so exhausted in many areas of our life, it’s become what we know and wouldn’t know what to do if we weren’t fighting it! As hard as I’ve tried loosening my grips on alot of these realms of my life, I find myself still expecting a certain outcome and sequence of events when it comes to my career, always wanting to jump and just BE THERE already! I’ve also noticed this with relationships, thinking meeting someone has to happen a certain way, or in a certain manner, like they need to be local, or it would never happen at a mundane place, like work or the grocery store, or I’ll have to loose the 20+ pounds I’ve put on since I quit smoking, or this, that or the other thing – when really if I’d just loosen the reigns and quit holding on so tight to this illusion or need for some control, if I’d start playing a little more Russian Roulette and just see where things take me, even if there are a few misfired bullets along the way, maybe I’d get where I want to be a little faster! The bullets are just another learning curve, nothing permanent, just a redirection – maybe those would be easier then this constant need to keep climbing up that damn down escalator all the time (have you tried that before – that shit is exhausting! 😉

So, as hard as it can be to put into play, maybe those 2 words need to enter my mind a little more often, take the gamble of moving with the flow, in a different and new direction and allowing it to unfold as it needs too. To quit relying or expecting others to fit into my puzzle and just keep on with the hope that it’ll eventually come together without so much resistance and effort and those things and people that were meant to be apart of it, will still be there, and those that weren’t, that’s OK too!

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Missing Piece

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We weren’t exactly orthodox both pertaining to a death surrounding suicide or in the manner of the grieving process. Once the initial shock of the realization that this was a suicide wore off, I’d say we were fairly accepting of her decision overall. Perhaps because it wasn’t an impulsive decision, or something done out of hate, revenge or to make a statement. I remember my dad saying ‘this is the only selfish decision she’s made, everything revolved around other people and trying to make them happy, it’s hard to be mad at that.”

I’d say the remainder of the stages, at least to me, are kind of one in the same. It boils down to a new reality and acceptance. And I don’t know if that word ever really fully makes sense in the aftermath of it all. To go back through the journal entries and read the repetitive words over and over again is so painful. It’s as if there were different ‘go-to’ thoughts that were the ‘theme’ depending on which stage I was in.

For awhile it was the word ‘never ever’. To say “never ever will I see her again, never ever will I be able to hear her laugh, never ever will she stand by my side at the altar, never ever will she watch my daughter grow up, never ever will I have nieces and nephews, never ever will I be able to make it right, never ever will I have be able to kiss and hug her again’. That one word – NEVER – was such a cold and harsh word to wrap my head around. And I remember breaking down every time the thought crossed my mind.

Not many are lucky enough to say they not only have a supportive family but to say I was able to grieve semi in sync with mine, seems to be a rarity. From what I remember, although very engrossed in my own life,  fog and daze – my parents and I were usually on the same page, or not far off from each other. I’m sure the experience for my parents was different as they were with each other more then I was with them, but I remember my mom saying when one was down, the other was up, so they were able to offset each other.

When it came to my personal household however, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. I hated coming home, the only place I wanted to be was my parents, just because I knew they got it. They got it on my level – the deep seated agony, hurt and overwhelming sadness. My ex tried to be supportive, but it wasn’t the same – there was so much that he didn’t get – and so much, too much, that I expected to him understand. After awhile, always being with them became another driving force between him and I and in many ways that was my escape from dealing with things at home, things that were there before this, but far worse since this! He wanted our lives to get back on track with some routine and normality. To me, there was no such thing – there was NOTHING about my life that was going to go back to what it was, and he was insane for thinking it would! And there was alot of it, that I didn’t want to go back! There were many parts I swore were going to change from that point on, promises I made to myself and to her, that it’d be different from here on out. He didn’t believe in the ‘crazy shit’ I was reading, that she could still be here, or that the soul is still present – he believed she went to heaven and I needed to start remembering what I had sitting in front of me, which was him and my daughter. But I had no interest. He would say ‘you’re here physically, but mentally you’re nowhere to be found’. I couldn’t explain things to him and it be a 2 way conversation, he wasn’t open to it and many times, I didn’t know how to express it. My parents just got it – it was effortless and I expected him to just ‘get it’ too. But I see now that it doesn’t work like that. I was expecting him to understand something that was literally impossible to “get” unless you’ve actually felt it for yourself first hand , but at the time, I didn’t care – I didn’t have it in me to care – I was exhausted.

I suppressed alot of it, the replays and play by plays –  for about 6 months before I had my own breaking point, at which time I was put on meds and enrolled in the outpatient program to avoid going inpatient. From that point on, I pretty much stuck with the thought ‘if this is how she felt every day of her life without anything significant happening to her – I don’t blame her one bit for choosing to leave.” From then on it was a constant toying thought of doing the same, the constant thought of just wanting to be able to see her again. I think my parents and I were all in that same boat for quite awhile, it was just the thought of “I just can’t wait to see you again!” For me, it almost became more of a dream then a statement, like, really, I just want to come see you, I don’t want to live in this horrifying, heavy pain anymore!

In a large way, I think that was the beginning of my acceptance phase, and it really came quite early. ‘It’s ok Jos, I don’t blame you, you didn’t deserve to have to live like this, you didn’t do anything to deserve this terrible feeling flooding you on a daily basis and never having any idea why you felt that way.” To all of those that initially refer to suicide as ‘selfish’ or think ‘what kind of person does that to their family,’ ‘it’s never that bad’ or ‘they took the easy way out’ has simply never stood in those shoes. I’m sorry, and it’s not to say that isn’t sometimes the case, but alot of times, it really, honestly isn’t. I have tried to explain many of times to many different people that isn’t, or at least wasn’t the case with her, and it isn’t that easy to just “snap out of it.” I remember being told by a counselor at Mayo that ‘suicide is often the last missing piece to the puzzle – they’ve tried everything else, from meds (which only 50% of people actually benefit from a medication that will truly help), being more social, a different job, an exercise program, etc. It’s as if they’re trying to constantly force this piece of the puzzle, but nothing seems to fit, and it comes to the point that, after being so exhausted, this is the only one that seems to make sense, this is the final missing piece that will put an end to the suffering. I heard this within the 1st month after she left but for some reason, that has always stuck with me. And the more I began to feel the depths of that pain, the more I began to see how much it really made sense.

Sometimes I wonder, are we all looking for that ‘missing piece’ of the puzzle in some area of our lives? It seems if we’re satisfied in one area of our life, we’re dissatisfied in another. It’s as if we get one piece that matches, just to lose another component. Home life is great, but I hate my job, finances are shit, but my kids are thriving. It’s hard not to feel as if we’ll never have all of the pieces, and maybe we won’t to some degree, but I wish she could’ve seen that in many areas, she wasn’t the only one feeling like that. I think that’s the importance of it all – is being aware that none of us are in any of it alone, that it can get better and be better, maybe some of the missing pieces were the absence of the conversation to begin with. Maybe if we weren’t made to think or feel as though our private lives were that different from the next persons, some of those gaps would be filled.

8 years into it, there are still plenty of days that when I actually stop and look, really look at her picture, it doesn’t seem real. There are times I’ve actually questioned ‘were you ever really here? or ‘are you really gone’? So, on many levels, I often wonder what the word ‘acceptance’ truly means, or is there such a thing of really being at peace with it all? To so many degrees I really thought I had accepted it, that it was her choice, and one we needed to accept. One choice that to many degrees, was perhaps the only selfish thing she ever did do. But there are times like these, when I go back and read the entries that acceptance is furthest from my truth. To read the letters and think ‘it didn’t have to be like this, or who would you be today?’ But despite how I replay it, how I accept it one week and deny it the next, it’s the truth and sobering reality of our life. So, I suppose I’ve ‘accepted’ it the best I know how, as much as the human brain can wrap their head around the thought ‘never ever.’ There isn’t an award or a checkered flag at the end of the stages saying good job, congrats – you survived it! I guess it’s just knowing some day we’ll meet again, and until then, I’ll trust that despite how many people call it ‘crazy’ I do believe she is still by our sides. I know she’ll be the first face I see when angels sing and for now, that’ll have to be my ‘acceptance’.

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