I’m still here and trying my hardest to hang on. I won’t lie, though—it’s still literally hour by hour, sometimes minute by minute. Death would be SO much easier than getting through this.
Just take a handful of carefully chosen pills and I know that I would never ever have to feel this way again. It’s such a seductive siren’s song of a thought and it takes all my willpower and then some to resist.
I told Chloe and Dylan that I was having a really hard time and asked if they needed me around. Unfortunately, they both said yes (which is my pitiful attempt at a joke) so I have to somehow keep going.
It may seem strange to be so brutally honest with them about my mental health but I have to because it affects them. And in turn, they’re able to be honest with me about their own.
None of us are doing particularly well. I am by far affected the worst (as you would expect) but that doesn’t mean they’re having an easy time, either. That makes it extra difficult for me to enforce the things that they have to do because I get it. I don’t want to be doing the stuff I have to either. But if they don’t do their part, then I end up having to do their stuff and just get more overwhelmed.
Shortly after J died, my dad said I could call him if I ever needed to talk about anything. Due to some tragic stuff in his past (that he never sought therapy for but definitely should have, in my opinion) he can listen to people cry and not be terribly moved by it.
That definitely had all kinds of negative effects on my upbringing, for sure. But I took him up on it yesterday, mainly because I didn’t want to disturb Amy on Valentines Day and because my mom is way too emotional to handle talking people down.
So despite the fact that I’ve literally never had a conversation with my dad about Very Big Feelings before, I called him and it went well.
I was even able to tell him that I just didn’t want to be here without J (though I left out the extent of my planning.) He knew what I was talking about though and he reminded me of how much the kids still need me.
I stopped crying for about an hour, which is about as good as it’s probably going to get for quite a while.
J’s sister still hasn’t answered my texts of this weekend so I don’t know what’s up with that. Either she doesn’t recognize how much of a crisis mode I’m in or doesn’t have time to deal with it. It doesn’t really matter because she’s not a reliable source of help. Message received loud and clear. I’m not going to chase her down anymore.
My MIL still apparently wants nothing to do with me or my kids, which is so brutal and painful. But there’s nothing I can do about it either, so it’s just another loss to grieve. Throw it on the pile with the other losses I have to grieve.
Meanwhile, the list of things I have to do is positively overwhelming. I can’t even see straight. I just get done what I can get done. But I still have to call the IRS and the SSA and my husband’s bank and Dyl’s school because I either never got a 1098-T form (which is holding up my taxes) or I lost it somehow in the deluge of paperwork I’ve gotten.
And I have to figure out how to fix the furnace (I know I’m renting but my landlord historically never responded to me, only J anyway.) And get more physical thank-you cards out, which I wish anyone with any understanding of grief would change the societal expectations regarding this practice, because it’s frankly barbaric to expect someone who just lost their spouse to respond in a timely manner.
I am just so so buried and I’m on the verge of collapse, which makes that siren song all the more alluring.
I am also experiencing a full-blown return of the eating disorder that kept me thin in my teens and early 20s. I really thought it was gone forever. Yet I’m still fat (though by now 15 pounds less so and counting.) Nevermind, though; doctors would still tell me to “lose weight” even though I am now very literally at sub-starvation level.
I just really don’t feel like I can hang on anymore. Maybe that’s a failing on my part, I don’t know.
I just need something really favorable to happen and so far it looks like nothing is on it’s way. I don’t even know how long I can wait for Chloe to get a job.
I’ve convinced myself that we’re only a couple months from being on the streets and I have no idea if that’s even accurate or not.