I‘m thinking about how oddly prophetic the title of this thread was, in more ways than one. If it’s possible to be well - haunted, this may be an instance.
In the interests of perhaps others growth and development in the post (or even pre!) loss of a PALS, I’ll share some thoughts I’ve had on my “journey”.
Three years ago today, I was working on 15 property budgets at work, my boss was a chronic irritation (who would later turn into a traumatic event onto himself), my mother was soon to be Dx’d with advanced dementia and was in long term care raising the roof, and Brian had just had an overnight catheter crisis that kept us up through most of the night awaiting hospice nurse care and dealing with the aftermath. Within months of that day previously, we’d had to put our favorite dog down, and my sister in law had passed unexpectedly.
While the universe has gifted me with a fairly broad set of shoulders, this was, shall we say excessive. It was cutting myself in the kitchen at work and being told I had blood running down my hand while I could not feel the pain. That’s disassociation, a sign you are in an overwhelming place indeed. My response to the onslaught was to shut off emotions to all possible degrees. I realize now I was also powering with anger, not at Brian or my animals or close friends but at (most) other things. I use to say then that my daily motto was “chin up, boots on” and that I felt like a saber tooth barbarian some days, with flesh in my fangs.
That mode, horrifying to therapists everywhere had it’s place, it got the job(s) done. Paychecks were earned and crappy boss or not the work did get done, my husband had every minute of me, in love and care that I could give and he had excellent care when I was working becauseI was an effective advocate for his needs, big time. I even managed to get my mother appropriately evaluated and diagnosed at a fancy clinic in greater Minnesota. The world applauded my “strength“ (but was generally unhelpful until I hacked up money for something, so thank the universe for having a little of that When it was most needed, a luxury many a family does not have).
Here is the trouble with that highly effective operational mode, though: It sticks around. To live in a survival- warrior mode, to kill your feelings is to live half a life - or less. It occurred to me that over two years after Brian’s passing, eight months after my mother’s death, in a far better job, I was still shut down, still fighting, still only comfortable with love and anger as emotions. I had regained some capacity for spots of joy, I could see the sun again, yet in so many ways I have only been half here.
Background, I am a somewhat imaginative, creative person at heart.Definitely a passionate one. I love art and music, I am very visual and love all things beautiful. That’s me outside of my business life. One foot in the material world, another in Stars.
Reconnecting with an artist and musician who was my first romance, after 38 years and leaving this world from the same thing that took Brian has had it’s sad moments (oh, the unknowable what if’s for one, this was no puppy love even if brief and experienced so young) has re-opened a part of my mind and soul I had closed down. I am writing again. A friend dropped a card off for me yesterday taking Brian’s old carpet shampooer from the shed and I bust into tears looking at it, but it was good, I am really here tears. I hear music again, really hear it. I am not fearing feelings, not shut down. I can see a future with Brian as a memory that is still a real and good life.
D. Will pass, very likely sometime in the next year. He may even disconnect from our correspondence before then for a variety of reasons I could imagine In a man looking at the end of his life. Regardless, I know I will absolutely mourn his passing, and I also know I will allow myself to mourn it. I’m alive again, and it’s amazing.