My emotional volcano is about to erupt. I can feel the pressure building. Bits of lava stream down the sides (of my cheeks) from time to time. I am trying to hold off the explosion but, as the 21st nears, I can feel the inevitable.
Wednesday’s support group session was good. I started out saying that my main agenda item was to ensure that the kids’ issues were taken care of. As the session continued, I think that it was evident that I had much of my own baggage to deal with.
Six months has passed and still there is so much sadness and guilt remaining within me. There is anger too. It’s the anger that I am most afraid of. But it seeps out no matter how much I try to hold it back.
This morning, for example, I yelled at the insurance claims adjuster after I gave my statement of a car accident that I got had on the way to my support group. I should have called her back yesterday; I would have been nicer to her. Instead I sensed a tone of judgement in her voice when she went through the “statutes” of why I was at fault. I probably was, but I didn’t want to hear about “statutes.” I let her have it, telling her that her job was to be neutral and just take down the information. Just moments after getting off of the call, and realizing how out of hand I was, I wasn’t sure if the tone was really there or if I just heard it because I was having a bad morning. But , that’s not all.
I need only smell the smoke of a lit cigarette and I feel the range of anger building within me, like a volcano about to erupt. Tom quit smoking 15 years ago. Did it help? Apparently not. It was lung cancer that killed him. I guess I never actually said what he died of. It was lung cancer that spread to his brain, and shoulder, and shins, and knees, and hips, and who knows where else. Now, when I see old men and women, who have obviously smoked from their teens well into retirement, and who are still kicking (and smoking) – I can’t help but be angry. It’s not fair! Why Tom?, I ask. Why not them?
I am also still angry at the doctor who told us that Tom would live for another year. He gave us hope when I was thinking that we had about 4-6 months. We were somewhat relieved to have more time that we expected. We told the kids, through tears, that we had a whole year to be together. We looked forward to creating some happy memories. Then he died (two weeks later). I feel robbed. Yes, we were robbed of sharing the joys of watching the kids create successes, and from growing old together. But we were also robbed of the truth and being able to prepare the kids adequately. And prepare ourselves too.
What’s more…I feel guilty for wishing that he would die already when I couldn’t bear to watch him suffer anymore. Can you believe that? I wanted to not feel like I was dying too. Sometimes, I still feel that way. I know that a part of me died with him that day. Now, 6 months later, all I want is to feel alive again.
I love you!!!
I hope that one day you will not feel guilt for wishing he would die so he would not suffer anymore. I think that sometimes death is different from harm. You weren’t wishing him harm, but just the opposite. You were wishing him relief and an end to his suffering, even while knowing the separation would bring you pain, sadness, and anger. I think it takes a strong, empathetic person to feel that.
All of those feelings are OK, Juls. No one here will ever judge you. I know someday you will push all the bad memories away. Be strong. {HUGS}.
Your feelings are normal, but still it must be so hard for you and the kids. I wish I had a magic wand and could make it all better. Hang in there, you’re a strong woman.
all those feeling are normal, but they still suck. Hang in there…
sending you internet love (the safest kind)
Oh, Juls, I wish you were close by so I can give you a hug and make it better. I can’t begin to imagine all the range of emotions you’re experiencing and expressing. Just know that you are in my thoughts and I hope that you will find a semblance of peace soon.
Juls,
Everyone else has said all the words I have to offer. It’s hard to be an Internet friend – only being able to read and reply through writing, when what I really want to do is give you a hug, a shoulder to cry on, a run to vent on, and a cup of coffee to reflect over.
Thinking of you…
I can only imagine your feelings this week. Our week has not been a strong one and I still have 9 days to go til the 6-month mark. Up until this week, I really didn’t think 6 months would make a difference, but this week it just feels…huge.
Saying your emotions are “normal” is never helpful to me, but I just want you to know that I have a lot of the same feelings, fears, guilt, anger. I signed Jack up for a camp yesterday and the woman asked if the death was “natural” or “accidental”. Seems like a simple enough question, but it was neither. It was negligence and how do you mark that on paper?
Sorry for the tangent. Big hugs to you and the kids. It is so important to take care of them, but don’t forget to take care of you, too.
I just want to hug you right now, juls. Even though you may not feel like it, you are one amazing woman. I truly admire your strength.
I remember when Tom was suffering and so ill and you asked people not to pray for him to hang on. I was amazed and heart warmed at your bravery and compassion. I’m so sorry you are feeling guilty about that now. In fact, I’m so sorry you are having such a hard time. I’m also really glad that you have a support group of people who are also suffering and I hope you can all help each other through this incredibly difficult time.
hugs to you and the boys.
Julie,
It is good that you feel like a huge volcano ready to blast off! You have been through way too much with no time to ponder (thank heavens, actually). Blast that volcano in Chicago and run like there is no tomorrow. Everyone will root for you, Tom in heaven, Jim, Fallo, Grandma Calvo…..We all love you here on earth and in heaven! I have angry moments too and can’t even imagine your world! Blast! (just not in your car or to those you love, well, at least not the boys-we all understand!)
Love,
Linda
You are more strong and graceful under pressure than many would be. You are also entitled to be angry – I would be too given what you were told and what actually ended up happening were so far apart. My thoughts are with you.
Thinking of you Juls!
Hey look at it this way, you’re on to the second stage of grief, right? I remember sorta liking how f-ing pissed off I felt. I felt like bring it on, bitch you have no idea who you are dealing with. I felt powerful, but it was kinda scarry sometimes.
You are amazing, Juls, just keep writing, you are healing through your words.
Juls-
My prayers go to you as we are experiencing very similar things now. We are at the one year mark. It seem like it was just yesterday and it is like a volcano ready to re-erupt at anytime. All your emotions are normal. The anger and guilt is just as imprtant as the sadness that you feel. You will get to a calmer place.
Big Hug-waddler
You are a brave soul, a compassionate woman. I think of you often.
(((hugs)))
what they all said. who wouldn’t be furious? i’d take it out on everyone i met.
I wouldn’t worry too much about the insurance agent. I’m sure they are all used to getting a tongue lashing. And I have a friend with lung cancer in his early 50s — and he NEVER smoked. Some people just aren’t as fortunate as others, I guess.
Anger is normal, as I’m sure you’re learning in your support group. It’ll pass, eventually, Keep up the therapy.