Life is not fair. I realize that no one said it would be, but this fact...along with everything else, just gets on my nerves.
My best friend from grade school passed away on Monday. She just turned 54. She died from metastatic breast cancer that had spread to her bones, lungs and liver. She has twin 7 year olds (they were adopted). I think she was cancer free for about 4 years after she was first diagnosed and treated. It came back again and she had a few months in remission. She battled this disease for close to 15 years. But then...well, you know the rest. She lived in constant pain. It seems that cancer in your bones (particularly your spine and tailbone) is unrelenting and extremely painful. She had a ton of chemo and quite a bit of radiation.
It used to be that if you were diagnosed with breast cancer, had surgery, and then adjuvant therapy (chemo, radiation), and if you were cancer free for 5 years....they considered you "cancer free". As a non physician....this makes no sense to me. All it takes is ONE CELL to remain in your body and the potential for recurrence is massive. Which brings me back to myself. I was diagnosed with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma on 7/8/08. I had a mastectomy (left) on 8/4/08. Started chemo in September. I had 4 rounds of Taxotere and Cytoxin. Completed chemo in December 2008 and then began a 5 year regimen of Arimidex (aromatase inhibitor for hormone positive breast cancers). In February of 2009, I had a complete hysterectomy. Since then, I have had PET scans and CAT scans, regular visits with an oncologist (until the summer of 2018 when he "cut me loose") and regular mammograms (on my uni boob) and regular lab work. I have been cancer free for 11 years.
My gut tells me that it will more than likely return someday. The chances of the chemo slashing the throat of every single cancer cell in my body seems a little far-fetched to me, but, here I am 11 years later. Other than the residual effects of chemo (neuropathy in my hands and feet) and "white coat syndrome" (what can I say??) as well as my lack of a left breast, I really would not know I was ever sick. But, 99 times out of a hundred, cancer wins.
Still, I have no idea why I was allowed to live cancer/symptom free for all these years, yet my dear friend from school died at age 54 (the same age I am) and leaves behind a loving husband and a set of 7 year old twins....plus three older step children, both parents and her sister. Why? Why was I the one to survive this (so far)? Why? There is nothing special about me. But, Rosa....Rosa was very special. She was the most kind and loving person I have ever met. I never heard her utter a mean or unkind word about anyone! She never complained (at least to me) accept to say that trying to raise her twins (who both have some other health issues) and manage the pain/fatigue was difficult sometimes.
Last night, I went through all of our emails and instant messages over the last 9 years and I am so sad. So sad for the loss of Rosa. Up until 2015, I hadn't been with her since we graduated from 8th grade. But thankfully, through Facebook, we were able to reconnect. I visited my home town in 2015 after my sister died. Rosa invited us (my son traveled with me) to her house for a New Years Day (2016) brunch. It was a blast! I am so thankful that God allowed me to reconnect with her in this way. I never thought that just 3 short years later, she would be gone.
She knew she was dying. She ended treatment about a month ago and they called in hospice. She emailed me a few times and told me how much she loved me and how thankful she was for our friendship. I was blessed to have had these moments with her...even if it was over the internet. The last time we exchanged email was on 7/21/19. She passed away on Monday, 8/12/19...just 3 weeks later.
Just when I feel like I might be climbing out of the pit of darkness that I live in....something like this happens and, I just feel like God has it in for me. None of this makes any sense...AT ALL.
Thank you, Rosa, for all that you contributed to my life and to the world. I hope we can see each other again some day. I look forward to it.
Showing posts with label brokenness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brokenness. Show all posts
Friday, August 16, 2019
Monday, July 8, 2019
I'm Curious
So, I'm curious. Why do some people struggle and others seem to sail through life with ease? This is mostly a rhetorical question as I realize that things are never exactly as they appear. But what I'm getting at is, sometimes it seems that a person gets hit over and over again and can never really regain strength enough to get up.
Believing in God can sometimes make this more difficult because the question needs to be asked, "Why does God allow so much strife for some people and not others"? The answers are pretty standard...."God never gives you more than you can handle"....."You must be a good Christian because the devil is attacking you more"...."You must have a lesson that God wants you to learn"...."It only seems that your world is falling down around you, but it isn't"...."You're still alive and breathing so is it really that bad"...."There are others that have it far worse than you so stop complaining"....blah, blah, blah.
If I reflect on the last few months to a year of my life, I've come to some possible conclusions:
There might be other possibilities too, but I'll just quit while I'm ahead.
Can you tell that I'm bitter? You can't? Well, let me spell it out for you a little better:
You know that poem about there being only one set of footprints in the sand? Well, I don't feel like I'm being carried, nor do I feel like I've ever been carried! That's right! I feel abandoned, left fully alone to fend for myself. Today, I feel like prayer is a waste of time. It's a farce! I go to church, I pray, but to no avail. I'm just going through the motions like a good little pawn. Ha! The jokes on me!
Believing in God can sometimes make this more difficult because the question needs to be asked, "Why does God allow so much strife for some people and not others"? The answers are pretty standard...."God never gives you more than you can handle"....."You must be a good Christian because the devil is attacking you more"...."You must have a lesson that God wants you to learn"...."It only seems that your world is falling down around you, but it isn't"...."You're still alive and breathing so is it really that bad"...."There are others that have it far worse than you so stop complaining"....blah, blah, blah.
If I reflect on the last few months to a year of my life, I've come to some possible conclusions:
- God does not really exist. It's a made up, fabricated fairy tale that is meant to give you an illusion that someone gives a rats ass about you and your circumstances.
- God does exist and He's a joker and gets His jollies off on creating havoc in people's lives...almost driving them off the edge of a cliff.
There might be other possibilities too, but I'll just quit while I'm ahead.
Can you tell that I'm bitter? You can't? Well, let me spell it out for you a little better:
You know that poem about there being only one set of footprints in the sand? Well, I don't feel like I'm being carried, nor do I feel like I've ever been carried! That's right! I feel abandoned, left fully alone to fend for myself. Today, I feel like prayer is a waste of time. It's a farce! I go to church, I pray, but to no avail. I'm just going through the motions like a good little pawn. Ha! The jokes on me!
Tuesday, May 28, 2019
Keeping it together
I've been doing my best to keep it together. My son graduated from high school last week. It's been very busy. My Goddaughter also graduated, so there was that. And, I had to attend a baby shower for the daughter of one of my best friends. Yes, it's been busy. I've had to dress up, be nice and smile a lot over the last week.
I think it's strange that I had no emotion whatsoever when my son crossed the stage and received his diploma. I didn't even tear up....which makes no sense since all I've done lately is cry. I did feel pride...just like all the other parents there, but there were no tears. Maybe, it just hasn't hit me yet. He's moving out too. Yep, he and two friends are moving into a house that one of the guys mother owns. They went there yesterday to do some cleaning. New carpet is being laid today. It won't be long now before he is all moved out. Again, no emotion.
Maybe it's like a pressure cooker and one of these days soon, it'll blow. I don't know. Still just going through the motions, I guess. I wish I could feel some happiness, some contentment.
The only good news was, I had 4 days off from work (including Memorial Day). It was nice not to have to get up at o dark thirty. But, we had another horrible thing happen in our house (I won't go into the details), but sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be easier to just torch the entire house and start over.
I feel a panic attack coming as I type this. Feeling slightly nauseous and like I need to have diarrhea. I'm the only one in the office at the moment...and I can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.
Amelia finished school last week also. Olivia is the only one still going as her last day isn't until the 31st.
Amelia starts work/camp today...and Olivia starts her gymnastics camp on the 10th. Nathan is going to help me with dropping them off and picking them up. I really need a break.
Nothing new to report....it's the same emptiness, same despair, same brokenness....just a different day.
I think it's strange that I had no emotion whatsoever when my son crossed the stage and received his diploma. I didn't even tear up....which makes no sense since all I've done lately is cry. I did feel pride...just like all the other parents there, but there were no tears. Maybe, it just hasn't hit me yet. He's moving out too. Yep, he and two friends are moving into a house that one of the guys mother owns. They went there yesterday to do some cleaning. New carpet is being laid today. It won't be long now before he is all moved out. Again, no emotion.
Maybe it's like a pressure cooker and one of these days soon, it'll blow. I don't know. Still just going through the motions, I guess. I wish I could feel some happiness, some contentment.
The only good news was, I had 4 days off from work (including Memorial Day). It was nice not to have to get up at o dark thirty. But, we had another horrible thing happen in our house (I won't go into the details), but sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be easier to just torch the entire house and start over.
I feel a panic attack coming as I type this. Feeling slightly nauseous and like I need to have diarrhea. I'm the only one in the office at the moment...and I can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.
Amelia finished school last week also. Olivia is the only one still going as her last day isn't until the 31st.
Amelia starts work/camp today...and Olivia starts her gymnastics camp on the 10th. Nathan is going to help me with dropping them off and picking them up. I really need a break.
Nothing new to report....it's the same emptiness, same despair, same brokenness....just a different day.
Monday, May 13, 2019
Mother's Day Pity Party
Mother's Day was a bust...at least for me. I never once brought it up to anyone, and never once did anyone say, "Mom, what would you like to do Sunday?" So, this is how it went...
Saturday night, Nathan had to work from 5pm to 2am. I brought him to work and Dan was setting an alarm so he could go pick him up. The girls were either in bed or watching tv. Dan and I were laying in bed watching tv. Actually, if truth be told, I was watching old episodes of The West Wing on Netflix via my phone....but I digress. At about 10:15pm, I heard Dan swear under his breath. He got up and started to get dressed. I asked him where he was going...."Walmart". I asked him why and he said, "because I just have to go".
So, I knew that he had suddenly remembered it was Mother's Day. After he left, I texted him and said that I know why he had to suddenly dash out and that I really don't want any Mother's Day presents....especially since he was bitching about money just a few short hours before. He said he promised to not spend too much (I mean, how much can you really spend at Walmart?). He took Olivia with him.
Fast forward to Sunday morning. I wasn't feeling well. My stomach was very upset and I had to keep running back and forth to the bathroom. At one point, when I got up from the bed, I felt dizzy. I decided that since Nathan didn't get home from work until almost 3am, that he, myself and Olivia would go to the 6pm mass later on. Dan took Amelia with him to the 10.
On the dining room table was a really nice bouquet of flowers (actually, there were 2) in a fancy vase. I guess one was for me and the other for his mom. He bought a very nice card and signed all the kids' names and his own.
Not once during the day did any of my kids say Happy Mother's Day to me. Not one.
When I was taking Nathan to work at 12pm, he asked me if I wanted to go out for dinner later. He still has 2 unused gift cards to Maggiano's and he knows I like that place. It was kind of him to ask, but my stomach still wasn't feeling right, so I said maybe we could go one day this week. As it turned out, he came home from work early because he wasn't feeling well either (he was dizzy too). I just assumed he was asking me to dinner because it was Mother's Day...although he never said it.
On top of all that, I made breakfast for everyone Sunday morning...biscuits and sausage gravy as well as scrambled eggs. I cleaned the kitchen, washed and folded 3 loads of laundry and made dinner (baked chicken, steamed broccoli, rice and some sweet potato gnocchi that I bought from Trader Joes.
Olivia posted a Happy Mother's Day note to me on her Instragam after dinner. As I write this, I checked her Instagram...and mine and I don't see the post. So maybe, she just made it for me and didn't post it.
It was a bust. I'm sad. Sadder than usual. I wish just one of them would have said..."No mom, it's Mother's Day...let me fold those clothes for you....let me wash those dishes".
Honestly, I haven't been a very good mother in a long time. I suppose this is payback. They need you when they're little and then, as they grow, you become less and less important in their lives. As the demands got bigger and more complicated, I failed them. It's not a big secret that I suck as a mother. The reality of it stings though.
I feel very unloved. Truly. But I'm not sure why this upsets me. I don't want to be here anymore.
Saturday night, Nathan had to work from 5pm to 2am. I brought him to work and Dan was setting an alarm so he could go pick him up. The girls were either in bed or watching tv. Dan and I were laying in bed watching tv. Actually, if truth be told, I was watching old episodes of The West Wing on Netflix via my phone....but I digress. At about 10:15pm, I heard Dan swear under his breath. He got up and started to get dressed. I asked him where he was going...."Walmart". I asked him why and he said, "because I just have to go".
So, I knew that he had suddenly remembered it was Mother's Day. After he left, I texted him and said that I know why he had to suddenly dash out and that I really don't want any Mother's Day presents....especially since he was bitching about money just a few short hours before. He said he promised to not spend too much (I mean, how much can you really spend at Walmart?). He took Olivia with him.
Fast forward to Sunday morning. I wasn't feeling well. My stomach was very upset and I had to keep running back and forth to the bathroom. At one point, when I got up from the bed, I felt dizzy. I decided that since Nathan didn't get home from work until almost 3am, that he, myself and Olivia would go to the 6pm mass later on. Dan took Amelia with him to the 10.
On the dining room table was a really nice bouquet of flowers (actually, there were 2) in a fancy vase. I guess one was for me and the other for his mom. He bought a very nice card and signed all the kids' names and his own.
Not once during the day did any of my kids say Happy Mother's Day to me. Not one.
When I was taking Nathan to work at 12pm, he asked me if I wanted to go out for dinner later. He still has 2 unused gift cards to Maggiano's and he knows I like that place. It was kind of him to ask, but my stomach still wasn't feeling right, so I said maybe we could go one day this week. As it turned out, he came home from work early because he wasn't feeling well either (he was dizzy too). I just assumed he was asking me to dinner because it was Mother's Day...although he never said it.
On top of all that, I made breakfast for everyone Sunday morning...biscuits and sausage gravy as well as scrambled eggs. I cleaned the kitchen, washed and folded 3 loads of laundry and made dinner (baked chicken, steamed broccoli, rice and some sweet potato gnocchi that I bought from Trader Joes.
Olivia posted a Happy Mother's Day note to me on her Instragam after dinner. As I write this, I checked her Instagram...and mine and I don't see the post. So maybe, she just made it for me and didn't post it.
It was a bust. I'm sad. Sadder than usual. I wish just one of them would have said..."No mom, it's Mother's Day...let me fold those clothes for you....let me wash those dishes".
Honestly, I haven't been a very good mother in a long time. I suppose this is payback. They need you when they're little and then, as they grow, you become less and less important in their lives. As the demands got bigger and more complicated, I failed them. It's not a big secret that I suck as a mother. The reality of it stings though.
I feel very unloved. Truly. But I'm not sure why this upsets me. I don't want to be here anymore.
Friday, April 12, 2019
Release
I didn't cry as much yesterday. I managed to hold it in for most of the day. It was busy at work and I had to take part in a peer interview which meant I had to prepare and concentrate. I guess, in some ways, it was a relief to not focus inwardly so much. I was forced to focus on someone/something other than myself. Maybe that's part of my problem, however as I have mentioned before, I don't care much about what I should be doing or what other people think should be my focus. I'm done trying to comply and conform. Is this selfish? Yes. Do I care what you think about that? No.
While I managed to stifle the tears most of the day, there were moments when the sorrow I feel inside was overwhelming. It overcomes me like a wave. It can't be stopped. It just is. I'm really not sure how a human being can handle this much sadness, this much sorrow, this much disappointment. I now understand how it is that people get to the point where they can't take it one more minute. It consumes you.
I wish there was a pill I could take that would instantly make this better. There isn't one. Oh, I've been on medication many times in my life for depression and anxiety. Sometimes they work, but only for awhile. Sometimes they don't work at all. In the end, I'm left with the reality of who I am.
Still, I have to function. I have to get up each morning, get dressed, get to work, pick up the kids, get home....and then collapse. The effort involved in just moving through my day is shocking, even for me. I feel as though I've run a marathon. I ache all over and I just want to be left alone. I don't want to have to talk or interact with anyone. The kids used to not understand this. Now, they do. For the most part, they ignore me too, only coming to me when it's absolutely necessary. Sometimes, I try to interact with them like a mother should. Mostly, I fail at that too. I realize that I'm a lousy mother and believe me, this brings me down even further. If there is anything left that I do care about, it is this.
Sometimes I wonder if me being gone would be better for them. They could move on with their lives and eventually, their memory of me and my lousiness would fade. Perhaps at some point, they would be able to remember the good times and not the bad.
Today, I just wish I could sleep. But, I have to go through the motions. I have another peer interview today (we are trying to hire a manager). Then, we're supposed to take a trip as a family this weekend. Part of me is dreading it. Part of me thinks that maybe, even for a short time, I can pretend things are fine...and maybe they will be, until we come home. Then reality hits me in the face again and I'm back to square one.
I just want to go to sleep.
While I managed to stifle the tears most of the day, there were moments when the sorrow I feel inside was overwhelming. It overcomes me like a wave. It can't be stopped. It just is. I'm really not sure how a human being can handle this much sadness, this much sorrow, this much disappointment. I now understand how it is that people get to the point where they can't take it one more minute. It consumes you.
I wish there was a pill I could take that would instantly make this better. There isn't one. Oh, I've been on medication many times in my life for depression and anxiety. Sometimes they work, but only for awhile. Sometimes they don't work at all. In the end, I'm left with the reality of who I am.
Still, I have to function. I have to get up each morning, get dressed, get to work, pick up the kids, get home....and then collapse. The effort involved in just moving through my day is shocking, even for me. I feel as though I've run a marathon. I ache all over and I just want to be left alone. I don't want to have to talk or interact with anyone. The kids used to not understand this. Now, they do. For the most part, they ignore me too, only coming to me when it's absolutely necessary. Sometimes, I try to interact with them like a mother should. Mostly, I fail at that too. I realize that I'm a lousy mother and believe me, this brings me down even further. If there is anything left that I do care about, it is this.
Sometimes I wonder if me being gone would be better for them. They could move on with their lives and eventually, their memory of me and my lousiness would fade. Perhaps at some point, they would be able to remember the good times and not the bad.
Today, I just wish I could sleep. But, I have to go through the motions. I have another peer interview today (we are trying to hire a manager). Then, we're supposed to take a trip as a family this weekend. Part of me is dreading it. Part of me thinks that maybe, even for a short time, I can pretend things are fine...and maybe they will be, until we come home. Then reality hits me in the face again and I'm back to square one.
I just want to go to sleep.
Friday, September 9, 2016
Preparing
God must have been preparing me for what was to come. He drew me to that scripture study on purpose.
Yesterday, the school Baker Acted my daughter. For those of you not in Florida, this means she was involuntarily committed to a mental health facility. They didn't tell me until after they had done it. From what I can gather, she was not upset or violent in any way, but this stemmed from something she wrote in a journal that she shared with her ESE teacher.
They handcuffed her. She is twelve.
After several hours, I was able to see her. She is scared but being very brave. She is very worried that Dan and I are angry with her. When I left her, she was wearing paper clothes, socks they gave her and no shoes. They placed her own clothes in a paper grocery bag, stapled it shut and put her name on it with sharpie. Just another statistic. They wouldn't let me bring her anything last night....no toothbrush, no clothes, not even her "Snuggles" (the bunny rabbit she has slept with since she was born). They say they can keep her up to 72 hours. She is with about 10-12 other children her age. I have no idea what these other children have done, what they are saying to my daughter or how they are treating her. We won't know anything until a doctor sees her sometime today. She will be assessed and then they'll call us. I'm not even sure I can see her today.
As a mother, I am broken. Truly broken. I can't stop crying. Nathan and Olivia are devastated. My 15 year old son ( He'll be 16 tomorrow) sobbed in my arms last night. He asked me if he could keep her "Snuggles" with him last night. My sweet 16 year old boy...connecting with his sister. We are truly going through the fire of refinement right now. God is working. He is moving. He is doing something. I don't mind admitting that I'm not at all sure about this. I have absolutely no idea what to do next.
My God, how did we get here?
Yesterday, the school Baker Acted my daughter. For those of you not in Florida, this means she was involuntarily committed to a mental health facility. They didn't tell me until after they had done it. From what I can gather, she was not upset or violent in any way, but this stemmed from something she wrote in a journal that she shared with her ESE teacher.
They handcuffed her. She is twelve.
After several hours, I was able to see her. She is scared but being very brave. She is very worried that Dan and I are angry with her. When I left her, she was wearing paper clothes, socks they gave her and no shoes. They placed her own clothes in a paper grocery bag, stapled it shut and put her name on it with sharpie. Just another statistic. They wouldn't let me bring her anything last night....no toothbrush, no clothes, not even her "Snuggles" (the bunny rabbit she has slept with since she was born). They say they can keep her up to 72 hours. She is with about 10-12 other children her age. I have no idea what these other children have done, what they are saying to my daughter or how they are treating her. We won't know anything until a doctor sees her sometime today. She will be assessed and then they'll call us. I'm not even sure I can see her today.
As a mother, I am broken. Truly broken. I can't stop crying. Nathan and Olivia are devastated. My 15 year old son ( He'll be 16 tomorrow) sobbed in my arms last night. He asked me if he could keep her "Snuggles" with him last night. My sweet 16 year old boy...connecting with his sister. We are truly going through the fire of refinement right now. God is working. He is moving. He is doing something. I don't mind admitting that I'm not at all sure about this. I have absolutely no idea what to do next.
My God, how did we get here?
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