Saturday, October 8, 2022

Sometimes It Is All Just A Lot

Today is a teary eyed day.

Things have been really stressful for a while. 

Honestly, I think financially it peaked post COVID shutdown and losing my job after that -- which was difficult because I couldn't find a job that was comparable to the salary I was making prior to the shut down. And then with the prices of everything just continuously rising -- most especially in terms of childcare -- it just hasn't been cost effective for me to go back to work or really branch out and do anything on my own completely.

So I'm doing this stay at home mom thing. It's honestly not my favorite thing to be doing. I love my kiddos so much and I also like having my own identity outside of them and something to do. But I think I am where I am supposed to be for the time being until something else makes itself known.

There are other things I want to be doing with my life. I want to be advocating in a different way for mental health awareness. I want to be baking and I want to be writing. But you also can't stretch yourself too thin.

I need to be there for myself. I need to be there for my children. And I need to be there for my husband. I want our family unit to function the best way it can and so you have to sacrifice some comfort sometimes and doing everything that you want to be able to do. I try hard to hang onto the saying "You haven't missed anything that was meant for you" -- but it can get really discouraging sometimes. 

And that's not even the most stressful part of the last couple of years.

We've had 7 major deaths in our family and friend group over the last 7 years. Not that any death would be easier to handle, but these were all significant relationships. That's 7 people that are gone from our lives that played a big part.

There was so much grief and stress, I honestly don't know how we are still functioning as well as we are. I mean...I do to some extent. We do have other people who love and care about us. My husband and I deeply love and care about each other too -- which I think makes the absolute most difference out of everything. We shield our kids as much as we can from what we're going through, but in the past two years, they have felt the losses too -- and it's hard to help them navigate their sadness too -- especially when it hardly make sense as adults of why so many people have had to die so early.

I live in this perpetual state of fear of dying because we've had so many unexpected deaths of loved ones. Which, though understandable, is not healthy. (I'm working on this in therapy -- but also my therapist is currently on maternity leave, so it's just me and my journal until she's back ha) But I will say it has maybe changed a lot of my priorities for the better over time. There are some superficial things that I just don't care about anymore. And then with that, there are behaviors and attitudes from others that become far less tolerable because I don't feel like wasting energy on things that are not good for me or my family anymore -- but because of how broken people are and the world seems to be in general sometimes -- you're left with no choice but to do so. And there is always a part of me that has hope that things can be better and easier and people can be more empathetic, loving, and kind -- but it is also not lost on me that that is a lofty ask for people/systems/etc that are not really self aware nor aware of others feelings/emotions/situations.

So today I get teary eyed because my 5 year old reminds me that he didn't get to know my Mom. I showed him pictures of her and he said "You look so happy with your mom!" -- and it cut deep -- because I was and I wasn't. My situation with my own family of origin was extremely complicated and not always healthy. But I have better memories with my Mom than I do of my Dad -- and I know that sounds pessimistic but I also think that's the reality of growing up with someone with severe mental health issues and domestic abuse. And my relationship with my Mom, as I tried to individuate with my own family, got very strained because she was scared of being left alone and behind. And because she also didn't know how to talk about her feelings or emotions in a constructive way -- it really came out as anger and mean comments. 

It was really hard.

And I'm navigating it the best I can. Because when she died I remember feeling so incredibly detached because my dad's behaviors were escalating as it seemed like his mental health was declining and she would see a glimpse of it, and then explain it away and somehow blame me for "not seeing the good in people" -- and then she was gone and I was left with him.

And then he left to find "the love of his life" 3 months after she died. 

And one of the last conversations I had with my Dad was me telling him I felt like he really needed help and that I was willing to take him to appointments and to go to family therapy but that I felt like he was spiraling out. I told him that I loved him but I wasn't sure I could be apart of it anymore.

And do you know what he said to me? 

"If you say one more word to me, I'll call 911 and tell them you're threatening me"

I told my Dad that I loved him and wanted to get him help EVEN AFTER he decided to be in a relationship with some other crazy person after losing my Mom who he hurt PHYSICALLY, MENTALLY, FINANCIALLY, AND EMOTIONALLY and who I somewhat blamed for my mom's untimely death.

I tried to save him as much as I tried to save her.

Which was never my responsibility.

And his response was to push me as far away as possible.

And then two years passed and I found out he'd died alone and had not been found for 3 weeks.

And then it feels like an avalanche of other things happened after that and I still feel like I haven't put all of my heart's broken parts back together yet, even though I'm trying.

In the mean time, life just keeps moving forward and things that are stressful continue to happen.

More people die unexpectedly.

Before I have even fully processed the grief of the others. 

So then it just piles and piles.

And it gets VERY heavy.

And then someone asks you a question. Or you see a post of people with their parents/family/what have you on Facebook. Or a day that used to be special comes up. Or other anniversaries of things that aren't as great pass by. 

And you find yourself teary-eyed.

You get yourself a glass of water to bring yourself back down. 

You start to anxiously clean the kitchen as tears continue to pool but you know in the back of your mind that if you let it out, it will feel like it won't stop. You don't want to scare your kids and your husband has to go to work and he's going through a lot of his own emotions with his own very traumatizing year and you don't want to bog him down for the day either.

So once he's gone to work for the day.

Once your oldest is immersed in his video game with his headphones on.

And your youngest is snuggled up with a movie, a box of tissues for his cold, and a warm blanket in your bed upstairs.

You sit on the step stool in your kitchen and just sob for a while. 

Full. On. Ugly Cry. 

And you let yourself feel it all for however long you can stand it because it needs to come out or you'll get anxious and angry about something else. Something smaller and less significant because you want to ignore the very real and painful things.

Why did write this? I'm not entirely sure what my point was.

I guess authenticity. Realness in the struggle with mental health. 

What it looks like when you get triggered? I don't know.

The long term impacts of recovery from trauma.

Sometimes I'm just a freaking mess. And sometimes I'm not. 

I know how to find peace now -- which was needed. And it's helpful.

But sometimes that sadness, that REALLY valid heartbreak -- still hits you and it knocks the wind out of you. And it feels scary and a little out of control -- and for a recovering perfectionist, control freak -- it is very unpleasant.

If you made it this far through this thing without being like, woo this girl is all over the place -- kudos to you because I am indeed all over the place sometimes and that's okay. I can always bring myself back around at some point.

But I feel a hell of a lot better when I give everything the space that it needs.

The more someone looks like they have it together in a neat little package with a perfect bow on top, the more I question if that is actually reality for them. 

Maybe it is for some people -- but for some reason I kind of doubt it. 

I don't know if this will help anybody else feel seen in their own difficulties but I surely hope that it does.

Hugs and love to anyone else going through a tough time. It's hard. Your feelings are valid. And I hope you have the support that you need and if you don't, that you can empower yourself to find it or ask for help finding it. It's really necessary.




Sunday, June 19, 2022

Dear Dad

 Dear Dad,


I wish that I wanted to wish you a Happy Father’s Day today. I wish that I had silly pictures of us having a good time together. I wish that I had the ability to think back on a good memory that would negate all of the bad ones. Except that every good memory I have turned into something not so great. And that is just the truth. I wish that I could say that my Dad was my hero and taught me all of the things I needed to know in my life and always lifted me up when I was down. I wish that I could say that I couldn’t wait to spend the day with you and grill and laugh and reminisce about all of our good times together. I wish that I could say that my kids are so lucky to have you as their Grandpa and that the relationship that you and my Mom had was one I would envy for the ages and hope that mine would be the same. I wish I could say how supportive you were of me and how I know that you were proud of me. I wish I could say that I missed you terribly and that my life has been worse since you haven’t been a part of it. 


I wish I could have sat down with you and had you realize that you really needed help and that you would have agreed to face your demons. I wish I could have told you how badly you hurt me and how deep those emotional scars run into the depths of my soul and that you would have cried and apologized and promised to do better and then done better. I wish you would have been kinder and more loving to my mother. I wish you would have cared about yourself enough to get the help that you so desperately needed in order to be what you, I’m guessing, didn’t have in your own family. I wish that you wouldn’t have been so mentally ill. I wish that you wouldn’t have been so damaged by whatever happened to you. I wish that you would have been able to love our family the way we needed and deserved to be loved. I wish you would have thought that you were worth it to do the work you needed to on you and be better.


I wish you could see how happy I am now. I wish you could see how much work I’ve done to heal my wounds that you created. I wish you could see how beautiful and amazing my kids are and how good of a mother I am to them. I wish you could see the healthy, loving, constantly growing relationship that I am in with the person that acts as my partner in my life. I wish you could be happy for me. I wish you had cared when you were here or could have learned to care. And I saw glimpses of who you could be, but your demons were bigger than those glimpses, and I wish you could have found healing. I wish you wouldn’t have been so mean and so callous and let the past have so much control over you. I wish you hadn’t found solace in drugs. I wish you would have been stronger than that.


I wish things had been different. I wish things were different. 


But I am happy that I am not living out my past in my present. I’m thankful that I am making sure history doesn’t repeat itself. I am grateful to be a safe space and support to my kids and they will always know how proud I am of them and how much I love them. I will always admit when I am wrong and own any hurt I cause and make it right and do better. 


Thank you for teaching me what not to do and who not to be and to make sure I do everything I can to not leave this world unhappy and alone because of my choices.


I'm not as angry anymore at you but I'm still disappointed and I'm still hurt. I know you had your reasons for being the way that you were, but they were never excuses to remain the same or become worse.


I miss who you never were and who I hoped you could end up being and who I needed.


I've found contentment instead of resentment though.


And I'm really grateful that I had some kind of resilience that you did not because I would have ended up the same.


And I'm so glad I didn't and won't have that be my destiny.


I deserve better than that.


My kids deserve better than that.


My husband deserves better than that.


And I'm so glad I know that.


I will be what I needed to myself now. And that's the best I can do. And I'm glad I have the capacity to be it and do it, even if it's hard sometimes.


Happy Being the Parent You Always Deserved to Heal Your Inner Child Day to me instead.