i have battled with writing anything here on OS or not about just how much life is a misery now. but i have no one in real life to communicate with about how i am feeling and i don't have enough readers to really make me uncomfortable here, so when a friend on facebook suggested i let it all out here, i thought: why the hell not.
march 16 is the 10th anniversary of caitlin being diagnosed with leukemia. every goddam day is an anniversary of something that reminds us of the empty space left in our family, but some are harder than others; this is one of them. we woke up that morning just mildly worried at symptoms and wound up the day with the earth now tilted on its axis. my child has cancer. ok. i can beat that. i won't even project past the next day or two...i have to make sure bill is handling the news as well as possible...our son, cait's irish twin, is going to need some help with perspective...and cait is going to need everything i have to give her in strength, humor, love and sheer guts.
ok. no none wants to read more about how this woman cannot overcome the loss of her daughter. i mean, it happens to people all over the world every freaking day. but there must be something lacking in me that i cannot, as my older brother told me, move on, get on with living. what he doesn't understand, him in his neat, orderly, my-daughter-is-still-alive world, is that i do get on with life. it's just that life is so drastically changed for me now that i don't give a rat's ass if i stay in it. (my brother has spoken to me for about 3 days out of the past 10 years.)
our car died last october (i think, i have a hard time keeping track of exact times now, thank you very much PTSD, you bastard!). i get out of the house maybe 3 times/month. bill hasn't been out more that once/month since then. the man is 81, has gone through a shitload of stuff, and i cannot even take him out for a ride to let him know the world is still there. i see him going further into himself. i dance my old jester dance to draw him out, but i am getting too goddam tired to keep it up.
we've can't sneak out for a cheap breakfast, just the 2 of us. a doctor's appointment is a major trek. it's been too cold and snowy this winter with hardly any sunshine to go for walks. all he needs do is fall on ice, break a hip and it will do us both in.
but, inside my selfish wee self, the main problem is i have lost my freedom to come and go, the last thing i had. see? on top of it all, my guilt kicks in and i at least have the fun of pummelling myself.
as of january, i no longer have health insurance. i am bi-polar and PTSD. i am still having troubles withdrawing from the effexor. my mind is like a convention at a pingpong ball factory. i am spending a lot of time in the bathroom so i can cry without having to explain the whys of it...what do i tell my husband and son? it cannot be the truth that most days i wish i were dead.
i found out that my thryoid medicine is only $10/month, so i can afford that, seeing as i no longer have a thryoid. but i need to apply for medicaid. unfortunately, on top of the transportation problems, i just don't give a shit right now. the receptionist at our county building is unbearable; part of the problems of depression and PTSD is that it is unbelievably hard to do the shit that needs doing! i have gotten so i don't even want to leave the apartment. so it's my own fault (onward, pummelling soldier).
there has been not one iota of joy since caitie died. the sunniest part of our lives now lives 3000 miles away with his mother in arizona. he had meningitis last month...but she is too stupid to know what the repercussions of that are. her family is vile and she was raised almost as a feral child. (when danny was literally 45 minutes old and she was talking by phone to her mother, her mom told her to not hold danny all the time or she'd spoil him...htf do you 'spoil' a newborn??) she treats my son like shite and he has to dance around her, making nice for danny's sake. mick adores that little boy and is a terrific father. the courts, in their wisdom, decided danny needs to be with his mother most of the year, with mick getting him summers and holidays. unfortunately, it is a bit expensive to fly down, pick danny up, fly back here for a 4 day weekend.
i feel trapped. i feel my life is done. i feel as if i just want to rest and not think or hurt or worry any longer. i decided on my birthday last year that if life wasn't better by my next birthday it was time to tell life to fuck off. the 26th is coming up real quick and if anything, life is worse.
i know people in japan are suffering. i know this and i feel so badly for them. but i know there are a mere 4 people who will really mourn when i die. what does that say about me? have i been a bad person? do i have a sign on my back that says: toxic! do not engage with?
it has been 10 years of it, folks. my brothers could not care less, as i am the blacksheep. we lost most of our friends during cait's illness and i just haven't been in a condition to find replacements.
i know bill would not last a week without me, but he's 81 now. mick is the one i have trouble with: he blamed himself for living whilst cait died. i know he'd blame himself for not saving me. and i want to see danny grow up and come to live with mick, as i know he will as soon as he's old enough.
this pity party seems to be in full swing, don't it? the only thing i have left is living. right now it does not seem to be worth the trouble.
if anyone reads this and wants to yell at me, just don't. nothing you could say will make me feel any worse than i do. i do not enjoy wallowing. but if i don't get it out, i am going to explode. i think about what i thought life would be like now and it is so far off the mark...i just wonder why the hell i was put here? for what? to love and lose a child? to gain and lose possessions? to watch the man i've loved for 27 years slowly leave me through, not senility, but his own pain and loss? the sameness of every day is numbing. the getting up and not caring is numbing. i am numb.
ok. i'm done. not even going to reread this for typos. just think of them as wee bits of insanity coming thru, from me to you.