last week was supposed to be a week of calm. it was, afterall, my birthday week. i don't just celebrate the day of my birth. i celebrate it as a week long event. i had plans for a haircut, a massage and dinner out. and lots of naps. after last week, i'm still in need of a nap.
to begin with, my spouses former co-worker's wife died very suddenly. whenever i hear of someone dying, i also think about the people i've lost through death. i think we all do. that put a quiet damper on my "yippie it's my birthday week" spirits. i wasn't angry about it. it is and it is, it was as it was. nonetheless, that quiet hush was there.
two nights later, we were awaken at 1am by a loud knock on the door. phone calls in the dead of night are anxiety-producing enough. but a knock on the door?? thinking it was a drunk, lost college kid (which has happened to us before, although not at that hour), we both stumble out of bed, bumping into each other in the dark like a laurel and hardy comedy routine, attempting to find some clothes. "don't open the door!" i whispered loudly. "just look out the patio door!" my spouse beat me in the act of getting dressed and thus was able to see who it was while i was still struggling to put on a t-shirt. seems as though a family member of ours decided to pay us a visit. did i mention he was also drunk? and ready to party? and also angry, raging out of control over his life?
my spouse and i were finally able to get him to calm down. we pacified him with some water, a sleeping bag and the couch. i was terrified for a little while, fearing he was going to hurt us. in fact, i barely slept a wink that night, fearing what he may do. he was hell bent on hurting someone. he kept reiterating that. the next morning, we awoke to find him still there. awake. acting as though everything was fine. i offered to make him some breakfast, which he declined. so i took the dog outside and when i returned inside, he and my spouse were having a screaming match. when i asked what was going on, our family visitor turned his rage on me, which in turn caused my husband to turn up his own anger.
inside i am beginning to seethe on my own. he shows up at 1am, drunk and raging, we give him a place to sleep and he's treating us like this? plus it's my birthday week and i was scheduled to have a massage in a few hours. i had planned on having a good night sleep (which he had basically ruined) and a quiet, peaceful morning to put me in the right state of mind. spouse spoke up first and said he wasn't welcome here if this is how he was going to treat us. he began to rage about how his family doesn't care about him, how they don't want him around. at that point i yelled "maybe it's because how you TREAT your family. because let me tell you, you've been a real ass during this unannounced visit of yours!" that seemed to get through to him. he apologized. we tried talking to him, expressed how concerned we were about him, to which he scoffed at, saying he was fine. we've both dealt with addicts--we know they excuse their behaviors until ready to face themselves in the mirror. so we gave him some cash and a box of food and he was off, acting as though everything, himself included, was fine.
i managed to have a quick nap before my massage, but by the time i arrived, all i wanted to do was be at home in my own bed, left alone to sleep.
the next night we went out to dinner. i was still feeling the effects of the night before. plus we had had some phone conversations with the rest of the family about what had transpired. we learned new things, which caused us to worry even more. what do you do when someone you care about is out of control and refusing help? so......sitting at our table, the restaurant was very crowded and noisy, something i didn't need nor want. the food, yes. the stimulation, no. so i burst into tears halfway through. dealing with death and an out of control family member visit was too much for me to deal with in one week, not to mention the phone calls back and forth to spouses family members to talk about what to do for him. sorry to be so damn selfish but this is my birthday. can't this shit wait until next week??? especially since last year's birthday was such a huge disappointment. it was my big 4 0 and i had had big plans of dinner out and dancing/partying with friends. however, i was very sick from new year's day through the end of the month. i had no voice by the time my birthday arrived and thus couldn't speak. double whammy. i had vowed this year i would be healthy. no stress. a week of calm.
fuck. oh well, at least i was healthy, unless emotional exhaustion counts as a health issue......
the next day we went to the funeral. it was a beautiful ceremony. very well done. beautiful slide show of pictures with really wonderful music. several members of the family spoke, a couple of them grandchildren, who broke into tears. i don't care who you are or how little you know the person who has died. seeing something like that puts you into a cascade of tears. grief is something you simply cannot hide. and i am incapable of being in the same space as someone who is crying and not crying myself. i've missed 2 funerals in the past couple of years, saying i simply cannot do funerals. who can? they are difficult at best. yesterday i realized why i have avoided these funerals. i'm afraid of the pain inside of me, afraid to let others see it. i'm afraid to bond with people (other than my spouse) in those moments of shared grief. i always have been.
as i wept at the funeral, i felt like i was doing something wrong. i had only met this woman a few times. i know her husband on a more personal level, so i was grieving deeply for him. however, i caught myself trying to hold back the tears, fearing others would look at me and say "who is she? we don't know her. who is she to cry?" silly, insecure thoughts i realize. but nonetheless, still there. in time, my insecurities couldn't stop the release that was needed. i cried for the family. i cried for those people i have lost. i cried feeling my husband's own pain as i watched him weep. i cried, in reality, for all of humanity. for the beauty of life, of love, of connection. and i cried for the other side, that bitter, sharp sword of loss and the deep, ugly, beautiful, wrenching pain that follows.
so despite this being a week of tremendous waves of emotional experiences, despite my own selfish anger and my confusion over wanting to both help someone and throw them out into the cold, despite the panic and anxiety i felt and the tears i cried, through it all i did what we all do. i survived and learned a few things about myself by allowing myself to reach out to others from the heart and in brutal honesty. maybe that is the birthday gift i really needed.
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