h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

July 30, 2003

Today Dad turned 80. We had a surprise birthday party for him on Sunday. Spent the first hour fielding questions about Shawn and Angel. And thus began the setback.

The play room is finally almost empty. I gave up and did it myself last night…well, PC did pack one box and Barton took the battery-operated train and car out to the van (they are on ‘loan’ to my sister until such time as I need them back. Yeah…like that is going to happen.) Angel’s baby doll, bottle and blankie are still there. I CAN NOT move them out to the garage. It was hard enough moving them from the swing to the closet. It didn’t take me long to move the stuff…only about an hour…would have gone considerably faster if I had gotten hysterically with every item I moved. I knew that I shouldn’t have done it myself, but I couldn’t get anyone to move it for me….just lots of promises (and we all know what they are worth).

While I was emptying the room, I got a call that S was in the emergency room. She had fallen again. She has been having blackouts and hallucinating for weeks now. She has more medical problems than anyone else I know and takes painkillers the way most people eat popcorn … handfuls at a time. Lately she has tried to wean off the painkillers because she knows they become less effective the more you take. So she has increased her anti-depressants and Zanax (self-medicating?). The drug screen in her blood work was so high, they are considering de-tox. C and I spent time relieving her husband in the ER … he is besides him self. We were listening to S speak with her dead parents and dead brother…all of whom were telling her it was her time. It didn’t help that the cubicle she was in was the same one her dad died in. At one time, when I was in the cube alone with her, she told me that she needed to get out because she knew she was going to die if she stayed there. I didn’t know what to say….this was the same hospital I knew I was going to die in. Barton called while we were still in ER and asked if we wanted him to come over. Told him it would be a good idea. We weren’t sure how long we would be downstairs, but he knew the room she was being transferred to and could find us no matter where we were. He said he would be there in 10 – 15 minutes….1hr 40min later he showed up (sigh). I still don’t know what detained him or why he had what looked like blood on his shirt.

***
But I digressed, once again.
***

As I was moving the last item out of the play room, a child-sized lounge chair, I bumped the kitchen/living room wall (it’s a partial height wall that allows you to display things on top). This wall is solid (I tried to shake it this morning). The bump should not have caused any damage. HOWEVER….. my grandmother’s antique sewing machine WAS on display. I say was because it came crashing down. It took out the sitar and a guitar (about $2000 damage) and I got hit with flying ‘shrapnel’ (no major damage to me, but my arm is a tad swollen today and I don’t have a good ankle left). I wonder why my grandmother (who is up in heaven) was so mad at me to throw a sewing machine?

It would have been cheaper to hire someone to move the stuff out of the playroom…both financially and emotionally…but especially emotionally.

No…I am not over Shawn and Angel.

“Feeling lonely is a lot like feeling abused, but the pain is of your own making and the blame is always placed somewhere else.”

In my convoluted way of reasoning I am ‘blaming’ three people who I love dearly for contributing to where I am now ... a plea to help someone, a long lunch, and a ‘suggestion’ that a call be made. I could have refused them all. I didn’t. My choice. No one forced me. The road not taken. Would it have been any better? I’ll never know. Those decision, along with every other decision I have ever made, will be specters to haunt me for good or for bad.

And now on to worse case scenarios (another thing I am good at). I (perhaps we) am (are) going to attempt to confront Shawn face to face. I know Shawn has caller-id and has not listened to anything I have left and I am sure he has not read anything I have sent. Facing him is a lose-lose situation. There is no place I can try and find him that Angel will not be with him. Neither Barton nor myself think this will accomplish anything good and in all probably will do additional damage to all concerned.

Barton asked me what I plan to do when Shawn refusing contact (you see, we both know this is a given). At that point, I simply commit myself and ask them to throw away the key. I’m tired of pretending to function. Of getting up every morning and going to work and knowing that I can’t even stay even let alone get ahead (I just got a raise…it put me in a higher tax bracket…I am now taking home less…couldn’t do it on what I was taking home before the raise). Sometimes I have to force myself to go ‘home’. I need to be someplace where my every waking minute is regimented. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to function. I don’t want to help anyone else solve their problems. I just want someone to take care of me for a change.

But it isn’t going to happen tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll force myself out of bed and put on my outside face. I’m great at fooling others. Just read what my boss said on my review, “…her sense of humor is also a great attribute for the group…”

“Good-bye cruel world. I’m off to join the circus. I’m going to be a broken-hearted clown.”

I am not depressed.

I am not suicidal.

I am tired.

I am frustrated.

I am lonely.

I am hurting.

I am striking out against the ones I love.

I am empty.

But the tears still come.

And because of that or, perhaps, in spite of it, I can't.

I must answer, but I cannot.

I must help her, but I cannot.

I must save her, but I cannot.

I must protect her, but I cannot.

I must care for her, but I cannot.

I sit here in pain I cannot let myself feel because long ago, I chose, and she accepted that I would not while she did.

To even say this is to make sounds that could be heard as accusations but are merely the crys of a trapped animal pounding on walls I built fifty or more years ago.

She will not because she 'cannot' when she could not.

I must, because she will not bear to deny me what I need.

I will because she wills it.

I do not, in hopes that her need will change.

"Mother, don't let your baby grow up to be a cowboy!"

Amazing how many meanings that word 'cowboy' has had since I was born.

Barton

Good luck Richenda with facing today, and everything else you have to face. Its good to keep going, what other choice do we have, but you don't have to hurt yourself in the process. Or hurt others, it shows here that you don't want to, I do have communicated in obscure ways when I was too scared to be direct. Believe me with the ones you love you can be direct, you need to be, sometimes you need to lay your burdens down and cry in someone elses arms. And someone else needs to lay aside any hurt they perceive and open themselves up to you and welcome your tears.

Theres magic in them there cuddles

Don't know what to say except strength in numbers, and the numbers are growing. You are loved.

I'm one of the people who's failed you, Richenda, and I'm sorry for not keeping my promises. I've wanted to give you hope, but I fail at hoping so badly. I'm sorry for letting you down when I meant to help hold you up. I know what hides behind the happy face, but I'm scared to reach for it, because if i do, I fear I might never see the happy face again. I'm sorry.

I love you. Sorry for not doing a better job at it.

So many people are hurting in Chicago, time to send some love! Hope things get better for you all soon.

I think the problem is that you are all so close and all so hurting. When you hurt you curl up and shut people out which is so understandable, but it can end up hurting others. You all need time to curl up and be alone, but you need to support each other too, and there lies the rub. I am here if anyone needs to talk but also needs to give space to the others in Chicago. One thing I do know is, you are all wonderful people, who care about each other, you all hurt more than most, thats the legacy of being a survivor. And there lies another rub, give each other a bit a time and then come together again, a prize for the person who makes the first move, cause that can be very scary.

Sometimes I say nasty stuff to Moonglum, and I want to say sorry, but I am scared. I have learned to crawl upto him and gently head butt him, before dissolving into tears. There you all know one of our secrets now!! Just make sure the head butts are gentle!!

Hi Everyone,

I have not had a traumatic life myself. Yes some difficulties, some of which I brought on myself but on the whole fairly average.

There I times where I want to scream with fear. There I times when I want to cry with rage and throw things around in a futile attempt to make it all go away. Sometimes, when I remember things like watching my father die, it makes me very sad and I can find it very hard to be happy again. Sometimes I know I should reach out and help but I just can't.

All these things and more are what it is to be human. Don't think of yourself as a bad person for having emotions. Maybe there are things that you can't help with now but time is the great healer. Maybe later.

Hope that helps.

...and plenty more where that came from.

Wishing I was closer. Hate seeing you like this. Thinking I should have done something to help.

Call if you need to talk, or anything else. I am here.