Two Steps Away

When my Mama died, my Dad and I were inundated with visits and meals and phone calls making sure we were eating and surviving. 

When my Father died, I expected the same. 

It didn’t happen.

In fact, when I returned to Oregon, people expected the same level of productivity out of me and got “offended” when I could not meet their expectations.  So it’s been a long hard year of not meeting expectations, in addition to everything else.

Life without my Dad is something I never wanted to experience.  I’ve spent the past six years constructing “safetys” for what I knew was coming.  When The Change came, every single one of those safetys failed.

And then the six other funerals and the cat died and the financial problems and the sexual assault and the “visit” from #3.

We all know I’m still SUPER PISSED over being replaced while in the hospital recovering from injuries sustained in a car accident.  I know I should not have been surprised -- this was an organization that expected its female volunteers to endure constant sexual harassment from a donor (you were worth $400 a quarter, ladies), but still…Is that how you treat people, community organization?  My only comfort in this situation is that you replaced me before I could tell you my Dad left you $10,000.  So there!

It may seem like I am complaining – and maybe I am – but my actual point in sharing the above is to set the stage for what can and did happen next.

I know in my cerebrum that I MUST let all of that stuff go and so I did.  I kept telling myself over and over to let it all go.  Each unanswered message or phone call reminded me that my time of being someone else’s priority had passed.  I should be grateful that people remember me at all.  I had a great 50 years that most people never experience.

Without any of the structures upon which I’d built my life, I was at a complete loss.  And totally on my own and me, myself, and I have been at odds for decades.

I always Always ALWAYS give 110% and so I put 110% into “letting go.” 

It wasn’t until the Travelling Preacher said, “I don’t know who I’m talking to right now, but one of you – and you don’t even know it – is two steps away from suicide through your careless behavior” and I fell out, realizing that was the path I was on. 

The path I’d been on for decades.  

My Mama raged at me for 34 years about my “careless behavior” and I never understood what she meant until that moment.

So now that the demons of “two steps away” and “self-destructive behavior” have both been cast out, I feel compelled to share what I’ve learned:

1. I most certainly do NOT want to go out that badly.  Yes, I miss my parents and the pain of no longer being a part of anything is almost more than I can bear, but I DO NOT WANT TO GO THAT BADLY.
2. I wonder how many other people are making their situations worse by compounding grief with additionally painful choices because everything hurts and that’s the “new normal”? 
3. At the risk of sounding totally harsh, The Truth is:  There will be times when every single thing in Life fails you.  I was spoiled that it took so long for me.  Everything you once held on to will be gone and the only person you will be able to count on is yourself.  I’m someone who’s never been able to count on herself and, well…that made the situation so much worse. 
4. Don’t do what I did.  I am damned lucky I saw The Truth before I (unconsciously) did something really careless.

I’m resting comfortably now, and looking forward to spending time with my favorite person this holiday season.