A Story of Addiction & Loss

Tag: grieving who I used to be

Life Just Keeps Changing

Matt,  I can’t even comprehend life as it is now.   Just when I thought my health was starting to improve, I get hit with the double whammy.   Not only is the tumor back in my spine but I just found out I also have myasthenia gravis.  Yup, not only am I going to resume radiation but now I have to see a neurologist to fight a disease that has my body turning on itself.

I feel like my life has shrunk.  All my advocacy work is now on pause.  Even putting together your backpacks for the homeless leaves me exhausted.  

How I wish you were here.  We could commiserate about our back pain and how it’s affecting our lives.  I now get how easy it was for you to pop those pills allowing yourself a respite from the daily pain.  I fight the urge to follow in your footsteps as I now completely understand the path you walked.  

Chronic pain changes us.  It rules our daily lives. I feel like the only relief I get is from sleep and even that is a battle some nights.  I remember finding you sleeping upright on the couch.  Never understanding why you didn’t sleep in bed.  I bought you so many different pillows but you still preferred the couch.  Now I understand completely.  How I wish I had a better understanding of your pain and how easily it was for you to become addicted to the pills that were your only source of peace.  

I long for the days you were here and we were both healthy.  The days when laughter rather than pain and anxiety were the best part of life.  The days we took long walks on the beach sharing our hopes and dreams.  God, how I wish for a do over.  I took those days for granted never thinking there was a time limit to the life we shared.  

So now as I struggle with anxiety, pain and the uncertainty of my future I finally comprehend what you were living everyday.  God, I pray you are healed and free from this hell that I never could understand but now I live.  

I miss you now more than ever as I know you of all people get exactly what I’m feeling and I now understand more than ever why you needed to escape from life as you lived it.  
Forever in my heart.  Love Mom.

Trying To Keep The Faith

Matt,   Today is Sunday.  I remember all those Sundays when we used to attend church together.   I never thought those days would come to an end.  It was always a comfort to have you there with me praying together and then stopping by Wawa for our morning coffee.  

Sadly, I haven’t been able to attend church in person for months due to this horrible condition making me feel like I’m dying every day.  I’m grateful they have a live stream that I can watch from home to at least make me feel like I’m still connected to our church.  

I do continue to take care of your garden.  Planting new flowers and keeping the bird feeders full.  It’s very peaceful there and I continue to enjoy the surroundings and the quiet.  Many days Pastor Mike will come down and bring me communion and pray with me for peace and healing. 

I’m really struggling with anxiety today as I will be having surgery on Wednesday to remove the diseased little buggers that have been wreaking havoc on my body.   I really never thought I’d have to face surgery again after the last two but I’ve learned life is so very unpredictable.  I’m both looking forward to returning to normal but also very nervous about possible complications from the surgery.   I’ve done a lot of research and it’s supposed to be a safe procedure but still going to worry until it’s over.  I remember when you used to tell me I worried enough for both of us and you were right nothing has changed there. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about you and wondering how it is in heaven.  I guess a part of me wonders if things go wrong will you be there to meet me?  I know that’s a weird thought but it seems the older I get the more that thought pops into my mind.  Your death was so unexpected and out of order that I find myself struggling to make it make sense. 

If you can please send me a sign to let me know it will all be ok.  There are still so many things I want to do in this life before I leave this world.  I don’t know if people in Heaven can pray but if you can please say one for me.  Know you are forever in my heart.  Love Mom. 

I Miss You I Miss Me Too…….

Matt,

I don’t know why your anniversary on October 3rd hit me so hard.   It’s been 4 years and 9 months since you left this earth, but for some reason this anniversary hit me like a well thrown brick.   Perhaps it’s because we are only 3 months short of your 5th year angelversary   My brain knows you have been gone this long, my heart still struggles with this painful reality.

I feel like a broken piece of pottery.   Once whole.  Once beautiful.   Once useful.   Now I’ve been shattered so many times the pieces that compose me are sharp and  jagged.   No longer fitting perfectly together.   Leaving large gaps that will never fit together to make me whole again.

I look at pictures of us.  Smiling faces stare back at me.   You as an innocent child in my arms.   The joy radiating from my eyes.   I look at pictures of you and Mike.   Both happy and healthy.   Sadly,  there will be no more pictures of you.   What I have is all that will ever be.

My pictures look nothing like the broken woman I have morphed into.   My eyes carry a sadness that cannot be disguised.   My smile is nothing like the one before your death.   Some days I look at my reflection in the mirror and I want to cry.   I miss who I was before your death.   Now as I battle cancer, my reflection is even more painful.

I look like a ghost of the woman I was before.   Pain has taken its toll on my face and body.   Your loss continues to shock and shatter me.   Our pictures never gave a clue as to how our lives would take a turn that would change me into someone I no longer recognize.

My losses just keep piling on.   First your death.   Then my career.  Next were the friends who ran out of my life as fast as their legs would carry them.  Losing both Bella and Simon within weeks of each other was losing another connection to you.    Now, it’s my health.   I wonder if I will ever be able to piece myself together again.   I wonder if my body will return to a state of normal allowing me to enjoy the little things again.   Yoga and biking.   Walking the dogs and making dinner.   Things I always took for granted as I took for granted that you would beat your disease and live.

So now I struggle to pick up my pieces and find a way to make them fit.   The problem with broken pottery is once it’s broken it can never be repaired to the original state.   It will always show the cracks.   It will always show signs of damage.

The life I’m left to live is one I never saw coming.   I’ve read that grief consists of two parts.   The first being loss.   The next is the remaking of life.   Funny, life has continued to go on around me.   I am older and somewhat wiser.   I have learned not to sweat the small stuff.   As so much of life really is small stuff.   I have learned to stop and feel my grief.   I’ve forgiven myself for not being able to save you.   I know I will never return to the woman I was before your death.   I’m trying to rebuild my pieces.   Somedays I remember you, me and Mike holding hand and singing Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.   Humpty Dumpty had a big fall.   All the Kings’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again.

Matt, never did I think I would be Humpty.   I miss you.   I miss me.   I miss who we used to be…………….

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