| (no subject) |
[May. 14th, 2012|04:27 am] |
the trip back home wasn't the worst idea. the hardest part was driving the seven hours there and having random songs on my ipod come on that would get me to start tearing up. at least i had the good sense to immediately switch the songs. it was hard not to think about the fact that i was driving to what may well be the last time i was going to get to spend with my grandfather. i think that having my aunt and mother definitely helped. additionally, the valium that i took before going over on the first day kept me sane.
i swore i was not going to do two things on this trip. one was to cry in front of my grandfather. he has had a great life and i would rather celebrate than mourn. i would rather reminisce and smile and have one last great conversation about our vastly different world views than to look at him as though he was already in a coffin (which is pretty much my grandmother's perpetual face right now).
the other thing i swore i wasn't going to do was lose it with my grandmother. it was a close call, especially after she spent the second day of my visit shooing me out of the room as though i was a disturbance and on the third day when my cousin tried to put her screaming infant down for a nap next to my grandfather and i tried to help keep the baby from screaming, my grandmother again intervened. all i said was, "you need to stop treating me like i am a five year old." that's pretty good restraint from me, especially when it comes to how much anger i have inside me that i'm not allowed to discuss with her until after this is all over.
i do find that the longer i am quiet about how angry i am with her, the more resentment builds up and it is targeted in places that i don't want it. i'm doing my best to mitigate those moments.
as for how i feel about everything... i don't know. it was good to talk to him, to just talk philosophically on the first day, and to sort of intellectually spar with him on the second day (before my grandmother showed up). we have very different political views. it's good to see him maintaining a bright attitude, but i think the chemo is wearing off so he is feeling better and regaining his appetite. the problem with that is that he will go downhill so fast. i'm glad to know that he is proud of me, that he believes i am strong and zach and i are good together.
the last thing he said when i hugged him goodbye was, "have a good life." i said, "you too." i mean, how do you respond to something like that? it's completely outside of my realm of experience. that was the thing that i thought about the most on the way home. if those are the last words i ever hear from him in person, then i'm ok with that. i don't know if i will be at the funeral, it all depends on how the next few weeks go.
coming home for zach's graduation and having to deal with his parents for a few days was... an ordeal. they left yesterday and i am just now starting to be able to process everything. who knows how long that will take? i may be processing it years from now, suddenly struck with this sense of loss when i try to explain to my children about their great grandfather. he's one of the few men i know that i can't say a single bad thing about. i do sort of feel like writing him a letter. just something so he knows exactly how much he has meant to me. i'd probably send it to my mother and have her deliver it. i don't want my grandmother's busybody tendencies involved. what i have to say to him is private. and it's nothing i could say to his face without losing it. i will not cry in front of him. i will not make this any harder on him than it will already be. he talks about it so... cavalierly. he's in such a zen state of acceptance. the time he is giving us now is for our own closure. it exhausts him. and it takes an incredible person to give of himself like that when he knows his time is limited.
i'm sure more will come as the feelings start to actually happen, but for now, i just have this... emptiness. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 6th, 2012|03:09 am] |
i have made the inevitable decision. i'm driving back to california tomorrow so that i can see my grandfather for what will more than likely be the last time. i am facing up to my denial, swallowing all that and just going to spend a few more hours sitting with him. i'm probably going to write him a letter so that i can say all the things that i need to say to him (that i've probably already said a thousand times over) without breaking down crying. i don't want this to be sad, and i know that he is only exerting himself to give everyone time with him so they have closure. it feels selfish. and maybe that's why i don't want to go. or maybe it is just because i don't think this one last time is going to change anything.
they tell me in two weeks, he'll be so drugged he won't know who i am. i know right now that his lungs have lost elasticity and he can barely talk. i call just to say i love you and tell him that he doesn't have to talk at all because i know how hard it is for him.
the real struggle will be telling my grandmother not to go fuck herself. she can be the center of attention when he is gone, but for now she just needs to sit back and let her self-centered ass be wallpaper. i'm already angry with her for a number of reasons, reasons that grow and cause me to resent her more and more the longer i hold on to them. but it's not the time to bring them up. although i half suspect my family is relying on me to be the one to say to her what everyone else has wanted to say.
also, i have a few friends who blog about their relationships and i'm wondering if this isn't something i'd like to do. for the first time in my life, i am in a truly healthy relationship. i have a partner who cares for me deeply and understands when i have my crazy moments. one of my friends just blogs about her married life, another blogs about communicating and establishing boundaries in her relationship, and the last blogs about how great it is to be single while sort of making it sound like she is just sad and lonely. as someone who has always blogged (or written an online journal) in the hope that some part of my experience may help someone else, no matter what it is that i am writing about, i feel like having few healthy relationship models and this crazy love story might be something interesting. i'm still learning how to be in a relationship with an intellectual equal, someone who gives me light and joy and hope instead of the dark abyss that was my longest relationship.
anything right now to avoid thinking about the upcoming days. i'm mostly just worried that i'll start crying at some point on the drive and will have nowhere to pull over. that and i'm having anxiety about being away from zach and the dogs. i'll have to take a shirt of his with me for comfort. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 2nd, 2012|01:23 am] |
Numb now. Crying when the drugs wear off. I don't want to go, but no one cares. I want to remember him like I do now. I don't want this shell of a ghost of my grandfather creeping around in my head. Forever.
I can't take it back if I see him. I can't take it back if I don't. If I see him this is all more real and I don't think I have believed it until now. I don't know if I can handle this.
He is done fighting. He quit treatment today because it is impossible to enjoy his time with how sick it makes him. Hospice has been called in to "make him comfortable". This was what happened about 48 hours before my great grandmothers both died. My mom says he won't make it to June. He could go at any time. He has lost the elasticity in his lungs, even talking is too much. Zach is conspiring with my mother to make me go home. Now is the only time. Zach's parents get here in nine days. He graduates in ten. Then he has surgery for his kidney stones. Then we move to Boston and somehow survive for three months before his student loans kick in.
Still trying to find Death and challenge him to Twister. Fucker doesn't have any tendons or anything. I would totally win. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 13th, 2012|09:30 pm] |
it's bad news, then good.
worse news, a little good.
it seems to get better every day,
and then there is the final verdict.
i reach for that place
where i know the feelings ought to be.
and there is nothing.
i can't feel about something this specific.
so now i cry at commercials
and insipid soap opera medical dramas.
i cry when things get spilled.
but i can't feel about this.
i get angry all the time
without directionality, a bomb
detonating without provocation.
but not at this, i can't feel this.
i have no way to cope.
i know there will be a black hole
that i will have no way to accommodate.
and still i can not feel about this.
right now, i can feel the pull,
the precursor sucking of all my bones
and being into this empty space.
and that's all there is: emptiness. |
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| just a quick one, i promise |
[Apr. 10th, 2012|03:31 am] |
every path i have crossed, road i have chosen to walk barefoot or with one heel on and last night's panties in my purse or back pocket, everyone i've chosen to walk away from. they all lead me to this moment. and for years that is who i was. asked to describe myself in four words when i was in my early twenties i chose "beautiful fascinating train wreck". i've still managed to hang on to that girl, that free spirited anything can happen girl.
and i've met a man who will never try to change me. he loves me for the spirit i had before he met me. he loves me in my sulks and rages and is a perfect fit for me.
and without those boys who never loved me, for whom i was just a quick convenient fix, i would never have found my way here to him.
i'm now engaged to be married to the most wonderful man i know. he even called and spoke with my dying grandfather before i did so he could ask for his blessing or approval or whatever it is that old fashioned guys do. they could have been bargaining over goats for all i care. i'd analyze this more, but i'm still in shock. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 8th, 2012|01:00 am] |
so apparently my mental breakdown was just my body's way of exhausting me for what was to come. i got a phone call yesterday that basically amounts to my granddad will be dead within the next month or three. after those first tears, everything got distant and clinical. i'm doing ok, but maybe that is just because he sounds like he is at peace. he isn't scared of death. he isn't kicking and screaming about how he is not ready to go. i think he is just tired and ready to accept whatever comes next.
my grandfather, the most mature and wise man i know, has turned into peter pan with death as the greatest adventure of all.
it's sad to think that this great man won't be around for my kids to get to know. it's sad to know that unless i pull some quick planning, he won't be there for my wedding. my family is planning to take video of him telling his stories, the ones that start with "well, we had a few drinks..." and end in everyone laughing. at least this way, i can show my kids what their great grandfather was like.
apparently, he almost made zach cry. zach called and spoke to him before i did - i didn't know until he told me later that night. zach says it is because he is such an awesome man and he had so much to say about love and marriage. i'm glad that we have the time we do now, knowing and being able to prepare as much as possible.
i'm not good at death. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 1st, 2012|11:33 pm] |
Shit day. Not much else to say.
Broke a mirror. Took it off the door. Got told boyfriend hadn't planned to take it down. Lost it. Put the hammer I had used to take the mirror down through the large unbroken part of the mirror.
Boyfriend insisted on picking it up. I yelled. I screamed. I cried like I have been all day. I told him that I was losing it.
I haven't felt like this since I was in the hospital. Not since I was ten. And I can't explain it.
Drugged now. Valium and a painkiller. Slept. Numb. Nothing feels right. I mean, except us. Zach and I still feel right.
I just hit my limit for some reason. Angry. I need to go back to kickboxing. I need to hit something. I need to find a way to be happy. To not just feel like I am dying of boredom. Dying because I have no control. Everything feels out of my control. I am just waiting. All the time waiting. Stillness is death. Stagnation is death.
I just grabbed my keys and left. Laid on a park bench and watched the leaves blow in the wind. I tried to find peace. I tried to find Zen. I have to start doing things. I can't keep obsessing over little things because I have nothing else to do. I just need a life. I have been too depressed to move. |
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| in which our villain has finally had enough |
[Mar. 30th, 2012|10:21 pm] |
i've been having a fairly shitty day. one of those days where i get so angry that all i can do is cry because if i don't i'm going to scream at someone who doesn't deserve it or punch a wall. i called my grandmother, as i've been doing pretty regularly to check up on my grandfather's health, and something came up in conversation. i merely tried to express hurt feelings over something that she had nothing to do with and rather than try to listen to what i needed to say, she did what she does best and got irrational and melodramatic. when i realized i wasn't going to get beyond three words into a sentence, i said "i can't have a conversation with someone who isn't going to be rational enough to let me finish a sentence." she hung up on me.
and rather than let her create more drama for me, i have kind of decided to deal with things head on. still waiting to see how that all turns out.
this had lead me to an analysis of my relationship with my grandmother. for as long as i can remember, i've been the black sheep. i've been the bad kid. is it because i became a teenage alcoholic or drug addict? is it because i ran away from home? is it because i did any of those things that afterschool specials warn make for a bad child? no. it's because i was the woman my mother raised me to be. my mother raised me to be outspoken. she raised me to question things that were unfair and to expect reasonable rational discussion. she raised me to have an open mind. my grandmother has always expected me to accept everything she says as unquestionable truth because she is older than i am, despite time and again having been proven that age does not make you right. it's not about being disrespectful to your elders because with the exception of some youthful bipolar moments, i have been nothing but respectful. she just enjoys having someone to blame for the actions of others. when my cousin attempted suicide, my grandmother ripped me apart for having loaned her a copy of The Bell Jar months before. as though the two things were related.
when my cousin went into the hospital, my grandmother drilled me for information. and i kept my mouth shut which i'm sure damaged my relationship with my grandmother. i told my grandmother that my cousin needed someone she could trust to keep things in confidence and that any questions she needed answered would best be asked of my cousin. i still find the letters my cousin wrote to me, letters that i never answered because i didn't know what to say. at first it was because i was angry. not because she didn't tell me everything, but because she could have come to me for help. i was sixteen and i simply didn't know what to say with my best friend suddenly gone from my life.
this is all twelve years in the past and my grandmother has written a great revisionist history of what happened. all i know is that things have never been the same. maybe it was because my sister came to live with us around the time my cousin came home and they have always somehow had a closer bond. i was jealous as a child, but eventually i just learned to live with it. and we've all grown further apart as we've grown up. and i'm tired of it.
i'm tired of this growing rift. i actually just talked to my cousin and was able to discuss all the things that have gone unsaid between us for the last few years. i'm in a much better place, but my grandmother is another story. until she learns to love and accept me for who i am, until she learns to no longer be this toxic force in our lives, i'm not sure i can forgive her for that. she creates drama to make herself feel relevant and at this point, i think she owes me an apology. do i think she is mature enough to do that? can a leopard change his spots? probably not, but she has less time to mend her fences than she thinks. and if she believes so strongly in an afterlife, one would think she would want to leave this earth with people who remember her fondly rather than as a divisive force in their lives. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 30th, 2012|04:12 am] |
so, once again, amongst the various debris that are simply reminders of the girls who shared this space with him before me, i found a designer tank top under the bed. a few glasses of wine in and feeling just a little like purging some of the uncalled for bitterness that comes to mind when i think of the fact that he lived here with another girl, slept more nights in the same bed with her, i asked if i could burn it.
he said yes. ever since i was a little girl there has been something of comfort to be found in fire. i don't know if it is that they are cleansing or that they sublimate everything into smoke and ash leaving vapors behind, but some part of me has always felt at home with them. if i ever finish writing the story "The Astronaut's Arsonist" maybe it will all make sense.
i don't know why, but it just works.
and i need to start writing again. i need someone to push me to write, someone who requires that i send them pages every day or something. just a reason to do it. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 22nd, 2012|02:56 pm] |
i have been terrible about updating, but i haven't been in a very "dear diary" mood lately. ever since coming back from california, i've been happy and content. the last few days have been a bit rough, but i am certain that it is just hormonal craziness and will pass by this time next week.
i have this friend who was one of the first people that i told when i made the decision to move to be with zach. everyone i know was thrilled to see me happy and in love and i thought she would be the same. instead she was negative and incredibly hurtful. she said that i was being crazy and stupid to give up everything i had in california. i pointed out that aside from my family - who would be there for me regardless of where i was - i didn't really have any deep roots. i had a job i enjoyed, but it was far from being a career or something i was going to do for the rest of my life. it was a strange experience to have someone i had done everything i could to be supportive and happy for incapable of doing the same thing for me.
in the last few months, this same friend has started a blog about being "blissfully single". every time i read it, i can't help but see a desperately sad girl trying to say "no, really, everyone look how happy i am. i'm not miserable and lonely at all". perhaps i object so strongly to it because it seems to denigrate the experience of any woman who chooses to be part of a couple. she throws in the token "it's ok for some people, but not for me", but that does little toward her being anything but insulting.
i have nothing against being a single woman and i definitely remember the strange looks that people gave me when they asked if i had a boyfriend and i told them no. the immediate response was always immediately "why not?" to which i replied "because i need a man like a fish needs a bicycle". from the ages of 18 to 23, i was in two relationships and single for about a week between them. i played mommy and therapist to both of them and allowed being a girlfriend to consume the majority of my time. when i ended the second relationship, i realized that i had been unhappy for a long time. so i made a vow to be single for at least a year. i had been growing without any real opportunity to get to know the woman i was becoming and as long as i allowed myself to be second in my life i never would.
i loved being single. i had the absolute freedom to do whatever i wanted. there was no checking in, no worrying when i left my cell phone at home. i didn't have to worry about anyone but myself. for the first time in years, i was able to be completely selfish. it also allowed me to refine a picture of the man i did want in my life. for awhile, i thought i was being unrealistic and that i was going to be alone forever because of this image i had. after four years of being single, i had a bit of despair around the holidays when i realized everyone around me was in a relationship. while talking with my mother about it, i figured out that she admired me. she told me, "your conviction and knowing what you want just means that you will take fewer steps to find it. i love that you refuse to settle." she's an awesome mother.
this friend seems to think that being in a relationship has to turn you into a watered down version of yourself. and having been in a relationship like that, i know that it is a possibility but it is not the only possibility. it seems wrong and bitter to write off every woman in a relationship as being a weakened version of herself for choosing to share her life with another human being, rather than daydreaming about making out with unattainable hollywood stars. the thing i waited for was someone with whom i was going to be a stronger version of me. a good partnership enriches both people, allowing them to grow in a supportive environment. i know lots of people who are in relationships that make them better than who they were on their own. it's not about change or compromise, it's not about sacrificing some part of yourself in order to be part of a greater whole.
i think there are things to be said for being single and committed and any variance of states in between. i believe you find the thing that makes you strongest and appreciate it for what it is, while appreciating that there are other ways - none better than the other. |
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