Friday, August 7, 2009

The Walking Wounded

It was not my intent to rage, rant, vent or snipe when I wrote yesterday's post. Rather, it was an almost desperate measure to try and cope with overwhelming grief brought on by the prospect of leaving the house I have resided in for the past 19 years; having sold it for only $500.00 more than what it was appraised at 20 years ago; and being flung into the unknown future with the reality of not having a familial safety net to rely on or fall onto. That the past six years since my husband's death have been chaotic and unpredictable has no doubt strengthened the feelings of loss I have surrounding my home. These four physical walls have represented the only stability the boys and I have really had since my husband's death and now even that is being torn from us.

I know everyone has their own problems and demons. A married couple I am friends with is in the process of foreclosure also. But they have one another to lean on for comfort and support. Another friend is losing the day-to-day contact with his 11-year-old son, as his ex-wife has remarried and moved to a town out-of-state, six hours away. I sympathize with my friend at his loss but at the same time consider him fortunate that he and his ex-wife jointly share parenting responsibilities to some extent. Try waking up every morning being the sole worrier about your children's health, grades, socialization, safety and on top of that being frantic about the need to house, feed and clothe them.

For me personally, part of life's challenge has been the struggle to move forward despite having to confront so much pain in a brief period of time - multiple grief losses and secondary grief losses is how I refer to them. Every loss brings up new pain and reactivates the hurt of the old ones. My divorce contributed to the financial nightmare I am currently experiencing, as well as bringing up feelings of abandonment, rejection, instability and insecurity that no doubt have their roots in my long ago past. I am so weary...

If only my husband hadn't died - I wouldn't be in this position nor would I even be writing this post. And probably all of those miserable feelings of childhood pain and loss would still be deeply buried.

1 comment:

  1. i re-read all of your "ravaged heart and soul" blog plus all the comments. i hesitate to say much as the B person might take offense at anyone offering comfort. from reading the aforementioned blog and now this one, you have deflated. i can sense it as much as i sense the presence of the little dog at my feet. you've bent your head so far that your spine is bent as well. you are exhausted and it comes off your words in waves.

    i am so terribly sorry you are in the situation you are in. i feel compassion for anyone who just wants to get things off their chest and then gets browbeaten. there are other things i could say to you, encouragement, words of solace, but, as i stated before, i hesitate. i can now see that someone in your family reads and pulls no punches. i would never wish to think that some comment of mine pushed someone over the edge to strike out at you so i will continue to read, continue to offer support, but i will now temper what i write with the awareness that someone else is keeping tabs on you, and not, it seems, in a good way.

    you are in my prayers. please feel free to contact me for any private thoughts or conversations of support by clicking on my complete profile link and hitting for email. or not. either way, i am out here keeping up with you as well, but in a kind way if only an ephemeral way.

    as always, peace