28-Places

It all seemed so eerily familiar,the place I was at now, so recognizably welcoming; I had been here before, and the thoughts of the events that took place at that time both terrified and relieved me.

Yes I had visited that place previously, in now what seemed like a very long ago time.  At that time, as I sat and contemplated ending it all, I looked around me; The project I had been working on was complete, the work had been satisfying and the finished job was well done, the check was in the bank and all should have been right with the world, but it was not. At that time, as now, I sat there feeling empty and lost.  This could not go on, the feelings of futility and helplessness that had overtaken me had to end.  I could endure it no longer; these feelings were not being caused by the loss of a loved one or because of some great family tragedy, no, this was a mess of my own making and I was sick of it; I was a hopeless alcoholic and I had needed no help in becoming one.  Having spent over 20yrs doing all the senseless and destructive things alcoholics do, I had reached the end of the line, and at this point another drink would not help, even if I could take it.  As I sat there, shaking, barely able to focus I felt I knew what had to be done, and I had the means to do it.  I thought about the aftermath, how the children might feel, what Donna would have to go through and said to hell with it all, selfish Fred was in charge; I was in pain and the selfish me had convinced myself that this had to end.  In an attempt to justify what I was about to do, I went over my other choices to see if other options were viable and to see if they all had been honestly examined …from some where inside me came some answers.  It struck me like a bolt of lighting, I had never really made any attempts to get sober, never any honest attempts; weighing the alternatives, I decided to make a truly honest and rigorous attempt at doing so.  That episode of our life is another story for another time, but i do not drink today. This current series of events, the diagnosis of cancer for Donna and the ensuing attempts at healing, the anticipation, the fear, the dread and the eventual end, the whole gamut of human emotions surrounding such a thing had brought me back to that place.

The resulting pain and anguish that losing Donna caused can only inadequately be described, and really only understood by those in similar circumstances.  Although we had almost four years from the date of diagnosis to the inevitable result, I was utterly unprepared and totally stunned when that result occurred.  So once again I was back at that place which I had visited those many years ago, and apparently for the same reason; to escape the pain, to escape myself.  And now as I sat there, wallowing in stinging pain and self pity, a self pity I thought I surely deserved, I contemplated the final act.  Again, the thoughts of the aftermath came to mind, again how the children would react, what others would say, of the stigma that would be attached to our family forever, I again said to hell with it.  This was too much for me, I had to feel better, I could not stay in this current state of mind and survive, Fred needed relief, and this was to be it.

The memories of those final weeks, days and moments were just too much for me to take; watching her go from vibrant and active to being relegated to a static and listless existence was one of the most difficult things I have every done.  I understand that I am not the only person who has ever had to go through such a thing, but this is about my experience and how it affected me. The images of her slowly losing her ability to speak, to maintain basic human functions, to watch the person I cared most about in this world becoming unable to focus on the ones she loved, to agonize as, at the end, she faded in and out of consciousness and then melt away was just too much.  I would not relive those images over and over for the rest of my life, I could put a stop to that right now.

 

The time limit I had set for feeling this way, feeling this pain, was coming to an end and things had not gotten any better, 2-1/2 months after Donna had died I still felt the same way I had felt in that early morning hour when she had slipped into death; when I had sat there holding her, watching her draw her final breaths…sat there, helpless to do anything but recall our life together and wonder why it all had to be this way; silently reliving the many events of our lives together, knowing there would be no more.  With tears streaming down my face, I told her how much I loved her and how she had shown me in countless ways how much she cared for and loved me and, how I probably had not earned all that caring and love; reminding her that she was the greatest thing that had ever happened to me and that I would try to be forever worthy of the love she had shown me.  And, as her chest heaved for the final time and I laid her back, I slowly slid to the floor next to the lounger and buried my head in her lap and cried.

Now, as I recalled all of that, I went over all my attempts to deal with the grief that followed those events.  All the research, all the reading, all the talks with family and friends, even the sessions with grief groups and counselors…none of it had helped block the enormous weight of pain I was feeling.  But in these last few hours of my self-imposed deadline, as I did the final review, I stumbled upon a lifeline, something which helped me find a way out of that place; it was not something grand or spectacular per se, not something so much of promotion, but of attraction.  To take advantage of It required no great effort on my part and only needed me to reach out and make a few keystrokes.  After availing myself of what it had to offer I was able to come out of that place, I was able to see that maybe, just maybe, there was a solution to the pain, that there was hope.  My thoughts of an ‘ending’ has been turned into a new beginning and I am reveling in it; no, all the pain has not left, not the sense of abject sadness either, it still exists, it and the loneliness, they’re all still there, but understood a whole lot better.   But there is also something else with me these days, that is hope;  I’ve found that this is what I was missing and what I needed to ease my pain and to help get me out of that place.

I have found that hope here.  I might have found it somewhere else, I don’t know, what I do know is that time was running out for me and I found it when I needed it.  I will be forever grateful for that, ‘nuff said.

pax

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“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go, you go), my dear…” -eecummings