Sick of Strength

I've heard variations of the "Strength" platitude over and over - "You've got to stay strong," or "You're so strong." These are always from individuals who have someone to lean on. Easy to say this stuff when you can crash every once in awhile and let someone else carry the load.

I'm not strong. Just because I've handled a lot of hardship doesn't make me stronger than others. I've just had to deal with a larger share of problems. Believe me, if I could, I would not be handling all this. I do it because I have to and I do it alone because I don't have a choice.

There is this stupid belief out there that strength builds character and we become better for having survived hardship. I don't believe this anymore. In fact, I don't believe any of those platitudes we've been raised on anymore. As time goes on, or at least now, I find the constant strength in having to rise to every occasion solo, is just draining me and leaving me more bitter. Forget about becoming wiser and stronger. Here is a quote by the businessman J.C. Penney that illustrates this:

"I am grateful for all of my problems.
After each one was overcome,
I became stronger and more able to meet those that were still to come.
I grew in all my difficulties."

Well, I've reached the point where I'm not feeling very grateful for my problems. And I've reached the point where I don't want to meet anymore. I don't like this life and I don't want to be living it as it is panning out anymore. I read all these inspirational quotes where I should greet each day, even the hard ones, with joy in my heart and gratefulness for being here and all of that. But if I were to say that I thought that, I'd be lying.

Feeling very, very weary and drained. Got through the debacle with the van being towed and its flat tire and all only to face a week later, another flat tire. Then some tickets for failure to not have a city vehicle sticker (which I didn't know we needed). And so it goes... More to face and handle. More energy that gets chipped away from my heart and soul.

My son received acceptances into two of the five colleges he applied at. Receiving those letters with the "Congratulations on your acceptance..." took a little bit of the sting away from the bad news that happened.

I'm tired of being strong. It is okay to be weak. In a marriage or partnership or close family there are opportunities to sometimes let others carry the load. I think I've reached my limit. I feel my back finally breaking.

I'll get up tomorrow and do the stuff of living I have to do. But it is like going through the motions. It is easy to be positive and motivated when things are going well. Seems impossible now to feel joy when there is so much discouragement and my spirit is sagging. My strength is tapped out.

As I write these feelings out, I realize that along with the stupid platitudes, there comes the guilt for not being able to be strong. Because when people tell you to keep on being strong, it is expected that you'll keep your chin up and do just that. Where are the platitudes for failing gracefully or not being able to keep up? Platitudes aren't realistic. What is real, is the realization that people will sometimes fail and fall. I want a platitude that gives me permission to feel the honest feelings I'm having about discouragement, exhaustion, bitterness and weakness. I need a platitude that gives me some direction on what to do when too much strength has actually ended up making me weak.

Sometimes Lemons Are Lemons

I was thinking about that saying, "When life gives you lemons make lemonade" and concluded that it is rather silly advice. It certainly doesn't apply to widowhood. There are some situations that no amount of altering will improve or make better than before. What can be added to widowhood that will take out some of the sour - the endless hardship, loneliness, daily grind, fatigue and struggle to go on as one when you were paired with a loving life partner by your side? I can't think of anything off the top of my head.

Bah on all the dribble that comes from the other sayings and beliefs such as "God doesn't give you more than you can handle" and "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Also, my personal favorite, that what I am living through will end up making me a better person. In what way? I'm bitter and drained, tired and pissed off with this crummy life. I don't want to live this life anymore - but guess what? I don't have the option of "divorcing" it.

I've come to believe that some of us do have to face harder lives than others. It isn't fair and there is no rhyme or reason sometimes to what happens. But by the same token, when some people fall they fall pretty hard and they just can't get up again, or if they do rise it is not without significant struggle. So I'll throw in all the crappy sayings about being strong, and fighting back and not giving up... blah, blah, blah. All just stupid, silly words that end up being meaningless in the end.

Some situations are just sour, bitter, lemons and nothing will ever turn them into a cool, frosty drink that we can't wait to sip. Lets cut the fantasy and call a spade a spade. Widowhood sucks and I will never ever make it into something it is not and that it shouldn't be. Right now I just want to spit the widowhood lemon out of my mouth and say "The hell with you!"

"But you have to go on and make the best of things." What if you can't see any best or there isn't any best left? What if you are too weary to keep walking the widowhood walk? What if there just isn't any fight left because the lemons outnumber the oranges and you can't afford any sugar anyway?

No One To Talk To

A major albatross for me are the bleachers at the high school. Not exactly the bleachers but the people filling the stands and the representation of intact families and couples. I know this is a trigger for me and should come up with some method of reducing my anxiety when I attend school functions. But usually I am in such a hurry to get to and fro that it sneaks up on me - the onslaught of feelings and emotions that overcome me like they did when I went to my oldest's volleyball game on Thursday.

His team was playing my old high school so that was part of the problem. Now nostalgia from the past got added to the mix along with other memories from my childhood, not so good. Probably a loaded and charged situation.

My youngest was demonstrating some brotherly support by going with me to see his brother play since he was starting and doesn't always play. But after the teams were introduced and we stood for the flag, he told me that he wanted to leave to sit with friends. I pointed out to him that if he left me I would be the only person sitting alone in the bleachers. He scoffed at my comment, then looked around the gym. His eyes widened as he realized I was right. Yes, I would have been the only one by myself in a crowd of many if he hadn't ended up sitting with me for the game.

Now I suppose this is a minor hardship to deal with in the grand scheme of things. In fact, my youngest told me there was a way to deal with my discomfort by not going to these events. Although that of course is not a solution because I want to see my sons whenever they are participating in an event of any kind.

I think a major factor in all of this is the length of time that this has been going on. Six and a half long years of this! I'm tired and drained and the constant strain of this is taking its toll. The widowed have to deal with the actual death of their loved ones but then come the days, months and now years of continuing a life that becomes more stressful.

Every time I go to a game or concert my heart and soul are pulled on when I see numerous couples greet each other and show their support for their children or relatives. There is almost an indescribable wave of pain and longing that hits me at these things. I look around me with such jealousy that those sitting in that gym don't have to be assaulted with these invisible feelings that overtake me.

On Thursday night I am sad to say that I actually started shouting in my head, "I HATE YOU!" to the women and men I saw on the bleachers next to me. The better thing to say would have been "I hate the lives you seem to have that I don't right now" because of course I don't personally know any of them. Or maybe, "I hate what you represent and I hate the feelings that get stirred up when I see you."

Again as always, I am struck by how much it seems married folks take one another for granted. I wanted to get up and make a little speech along the lines of "How would you like to be forced back into the dating world where you're rejected on a constant basis for being and looking age 50?" Dating, now there is another fun topic for another post. Talk about being burdened and then on top of it all, rising to the occasion to take a chance on a relationship and having the courage and strength to face the potential of rejection. God it is hard and it just doesn't seem to have an end in sight.

My spirit is depleted. I am sure I look like a drained, harried, lonely, unhappy 50-year-old woman when I'm at these events.

Something that I kept thinking about was how you can really be extremely lonely even surrounded by a large group of people. If a picture was taken I wouldn't look alone in that crush of people. Seeing the couples talk to one another is what really got to me on Thursday. Seeing them greet each other. I have a huge need right now to talk to someone about my job and career future and that just doesn't happen in my life. These parents can chat on the drive home or over dinner. The ability to discuss current events, receive feedback and advice, to have someone observe that you look nice or even look tired. When none of that is happening in your life, it gets harder to keep up the game. At least for me. And maybe that is why I am letting some of the anger and frustration out as I did when I yelled inwardly at the opposing team's parents.

I'm not pleased with myself that I am releasing tension in this way. It is not the way I want to relate to the world. Shouting negatively (even within my head) will only result in negativity coming back to me in some way.

I am becoming increasingly aware of the importance of having someone close to me, in which to share my life. Maybe if I had a family member to relate with this need would not be so apparent and necessary right now. But there is such a huge void that comes with sitting in the bleachers with no one to turn to to share the small moment of pleasure that comes with your son scoring a goal. On its own the event itself is not the issue - it is the build-up of many of these events and the lack of someone in my life who is interested and cares about them. And I could say that yes, I have a few friends who do care about me. But there is a need to share day-to-day life and occurrences. Well again, maybe not a necessary need but it sure is nice and makes life a lot more valuable and worth living.

After the game, back at home, my son told me his coach has informed him that he will be one of the two captains on next year's team. My heart swells with pride, yet at the same time I feel the tears because I'd like to be able to share that with someone who would take it seriously. One way of describing how I feel is that it is like that saying, "All dressed up with no where to go." I feel all this stuff both good and bad and it just sits inside me or churns around endlessly. Until finally there isn't any release but the toxic one of me blowing off steam in the form of glaring at people I don't even know and then thinking mean thoughts about them. I am also beginning to fear that I have lost some of my verbal communication skills - I have become a less effective communicator since I've been widowed. How's that for another price to pay for this shitty situation?

This is why I continue to feel I am becoming that dreaded bitter and angry widow I hoped I wouldn't become. But I see myself headed that way and despite my awareness of it I just don't seem to care much right now or have the strength/energy to fight it off.