(Knew Me)
When
I thought about starting this blog I considered how much I would be willing to
reveal and put up for public scrutiny.
The wannabe writer in me got stuck on the honesty/privacy issue for a
while and it del
{note: some of the phrasing below I
have borrowed from other people in posts from other places, but they express my sentiments
perfectly}
Old Me:
Old Me:
First
off, I don’t like this sh---y idea of Donna dying… I did not agree to this. This is a bunch of
B---S--- and somebody needs to rectify this situation. There’s hell to be paid and I’m just looking
for the a--hole who has to pay it. This was not in my plans, and when things don’t go as I plan, I get pissed, and I
don’t mind acting like it. I don’t want
a drink, I don’t want a drug, what I really want to do is find the culprit and
yank its head through it’s a-- and have a dog skull f--- it. You will not like me when I’m pissed; there
are only three bad m-----f-----s in this world, one’s dead and I’m looking for
the other one…Somebody lied to me, I don’t like this s---, my baby is gone and
the house is empty; this s--- is scary, there’s no one here to see me. There’s no one here to act like they
understand what I’m saying when we talk.
We said this was for always but no one told me always would only come
for us one at a time. I want a life, not a fight for survival
and that's what I have; if I wanted a fight, I know how to pick one and have
the scars to prove it.
Our marriage didn’t get a
chance to end, my wife’s life ended. Why the F--- am I
still here?
‘I know exactly how you feel’---No you don't. You have no
f-----g clue. Not even an inkling. Don’t
say that s--- to me, please (fortunately not too many people have). F--- all
this B---S--- of things can only make you stronger, I was strong as I wanted to
be. I ain’t trying to join no circus, If
I had wanted more strength, I would have eaten Wheaties. F--- you Death you evil son of a B----,
you came in the night like a coward and took what was MINE! F--- YOU CANCER.. for reducing my strong
beautiful wife to a pile of skin and bones before my eyes! F--- you for causing her pain! F--- you for robbing her of her life! F--- you for taking my children’s mother away! F---
kity F--- F---
you for ripping the love of my life from my arms and leaving me to live
in the devastation that is left of my F--- ed up life! F--- you and the horse
you rode in on, you rotten evil mother F--- er!! ROT IN HELL CANCER!! F--- the Holidays, F--- Being alone, F---
feeling lonely, F--- sadness, F--- negative thoughts, F--- it all!!!!! F---
pretending to be O.K. Just f--- everything.
World you can go f--- yourself also. You are too painful and you have hurt us
all too much. F--- you to all the do goodies out there that think telling me I
don't have a choice but to move on and be happy.... Guess what, I do have a choice. Middle finger to all the folks who think we should 'get with it', we are with it, with the pain, with the sadness, with the loneliness. Don't tell us to get 'over it', you get over it, better yet you get over a barrel and i'll give you and idea of what I'm talking about. I'm aware that the world carries on despite what might be happening in our currently miserable lives, that others don't give a rat's a-- that Donna died, that's life; but this is affecting me and my family's life and I don't like the s--- that's been stirred up by the appearance of grief; Attention current reality - go f--- your self
cross eyed with something sharp and rusty, no one asked you to come here. F--- you Death. You suck. You took my girl from me. You robbed me of the one person I knew understood me and supported me unconditionally. F--- YOU. Try to
find me you cheap piece of s---. Come on. Throw some more of your cheap shots our way, we can take it... F--- you and all those who align with your piece of s--- ways. I'm f---ing
living and she is too, in my heart, and you can't get to that so F--- you!
(sorry got carried away there)
These were the first things the 'old me' wanted to scream. And, but for the support of my children, and Donna's middle sister, I would have publicly reacted that way...I don't know, I still may at some point, I'm not out of the woods yet...
These were the first things the 'old me' wanted to scream. And, but for the support of my children, and Donna's middle sister, I would have publicly reacted that way...I don't know, I still may at some point, I'm not out of the woods yet...
Knew Me:
Upon reflection I came to understand that I could not think that way for long, that it was just not the way to be (eye roll and hum). I thought, after all these years of living with myself, that I knew me, that I understood how my mind and emotions really worked...I was wrong.
Upon reflection I came to understand that I could not think that way for long, that it was just not the way to be (eye roll and hum). I thought, after all these years of living with myself, that I knew me, that I understood how my mind and emotions really worked...I was wrong.
I read somewhere that
when attempting to write about traumatic events it is best to wait for a while
after the event has happened. It stated
that trying doing so, soon after the event could result in distortions and
misconceptions because the heat and passion of the event is so fresh. This could be true…it probably is as the rant above proves; as I said,
I’m just a wannabe so I don’t know all the literary protocols. But there’s no way to distort or misconstrue the
fact that Donna is not with us and that the pain of that absence for us is overwhelming. So I
waited a while to write, but I’m not so sure of how much the heat and passion has cooled.
Here’s what I do know, and not because I read it
somewhere, but because I’m living it:
the pain and sadness of the loss of a close loved one, one that you have had a deep personal relationship with, and the attendant grief that follows, has effects on
a person as no other event can. That the loneliness caused by that loss cannot be accurately described or transmitted; that grief respects no boundaries, asks for no
admission, and has no mercy. It cannot
be prepared for, bargained with or uninvited; it comes in with big boots, crushing everything in its
path. It does not respond to gentle coaxing, or sincere pleadings to go away. It invades every corner of one's life and mind and can reduce even the most hardiest of us to a pile of emotional putty. In order to survive its trek
through our lives we have to become aware of it, try understanding it, and
attempt to deal with it; hence, our journey through it, not over it. Make no mistake about this, we will not get over it; we have to live through it. I don’t think
this is something we have a choice in, we must do it in order to become the new us…the
old us has vanished into parts unknown. We have to find out what this new life is all
about, just what is it we’re suppose to be and do. We don’t have to like it or want it, it’s
going to be that way regardless.
I hope in continuing these posts I get a clue to what’s in store; by examining myself and my life, and our family’s lives, maybe, just maybe I may find, get to know, and like the new me, and want to keep that person. This not only applies to me, but to everyone who is affected by Donna’s death, especially our children. It doesn’t matter that they are adults, she is their mother and the real hell they are going through cannot be overstated. As I’ve mentioned previously, my own mother died when I was quite young and the type of bond they enjoyed with Donna, I didn’t have the chance to develop with my own mother. I can relate to them inasmuch as I remember how weird I felt on Mother’s day when I was a child; the people whose mothers had died wore white flowers, those whose mothers were still alive wore red. That always made me feel…I hesitate to say different, but I guess that’s what it was…different and weird.
I hope in continuing these posts I get a clue to what’s in store; by examining myself and my life, and our family’s lives, maybe, just maybe I may find, get to know, and like the new me, and want to keep that person. This not only applies to me, but to everyone who is affected by Donna’s death, especially our children. It doesn’t matter that they are adults, she is their mother and the real hell they are going through cannot be overstated. As I’ve mentioned previously, my own mother died when I was quite young and the type of bond they enjoyed with Donna, I didn’t have the chance to develop with my own mother. I can relate to them inasmuch as I remember how weird I felt on Mother’s day when I was a child; the people whose mothers had died wore white flowers, those whose mothers were still alive wore red. That always made me feel…I hesitate to say different, but I guess that’s what it was…different and weird.
Our family as a whole has to come to accept
this idea of the ‘new me’s’ for each of us, it’s all a matter of how.
So,
on we go…
pax
_________________________________________________
“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my
heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go, you go), my dear…” -e.e.cummings
WOW! I concur!
ReplyDeleteRaw grief! I love it! Let it out!
ReplyDelete