Thursday, February 7, 2008

Someone Tell me What to Feel and What to Do

Anyone want to come be Me for awhile? I don't know what to do with this.

I had a voice mail message when we took a break for lunch today. It was from my sister and said "if a certain person sort of in the family had a massive heart attack, would you want to know?" So I called her back. Toilet had chest pains this morning, drove to work anyway. (they live in a neighboring state, but he works in the state where I live - about 1 1/2 hrs away from me). He drove into the office and ran inside and passed out. An ambulance was called and he had to be resuscitated. He was taken to the hospital where they gave him little to no chance. They were waiting for Mom to show up to see him - meanwhile she had called my Sister to tell her all this, called her mother, showered (who showers when their husband is dying?) and gotten directions to the hospital. The hospital could not wait for her and went ahead with surgery.

My relatives had the idea that since I was closest I should go to the hospital. Or so they told my Sister and Mom. Their first idea was to call me so I could go be with Mom. This morning, early, I had emailed all the relatives about the pregnancy. I didn't hear from anyone and thought that sort of odd. Now I know they were occupied with Mom. Mom told the relatives that she didn't think it was a good idea to telephone me. (smart move Mom).

Four years ago before I cut off contact with Toilet, I would have been the first one called. Even up until one year ago I probably would have been called first. And until then I would have been on the road immediately, making phone calls along the way to inform relatives, etc. Afterwards I would have collapsed, not understanding why.

Now I was not the first called, or called at all. It was my sister who received the call from Mom saying, "I know you don't care about him or want to hear about him, but I'm a mess and I need to talk." I felt bad for Sister, having been there before. But she handles it very well. And I did not take off to the hospital. (yeah me)

Of course today is (insert eye roll here) the first day off effexor entirely. And I would KILL for a few xanax right now.

I did call my mother. Wasn't sure whether I wanted to or not, but felt like I needed to check on her. She answered and I told her I just wanted to let her know I was thinking of her. I asked if my Aunt (also lives 1 hour away) had gotten there yet. Mom sounded odd and curt. I didn't ask what happened or even for an update or how he was. I just told her to call me if she needed to and that I would be thinking of her. Then I got off. I told her I loved her. I don't think she said much back.

I left a message, probably incoherent, for T. I then blocked everything out, put on the mask, and went back to court. I delivered a great closing argument - turned all that anxiety and emotion into passion. I then turned to mush. I got into my car, called T who told me to come on over, and called Sister to find out there was no news.

T wanted me to be careful to do what I wanted, not what I felt I was obligated to do. It helped a lot to talk through things, although I still don't understand WHY I feel this way. I know that even six months ago I would have been mad or dancing a jig over the thought of Toilet being ill. Now I feel....nothing. All the times - all the YEARS - I have planned what I would do and how I would react in this situation, and those thoughts flew out of my head. There was nothing, nada, zilch.

I called my Sister again. She had said something originally about coming down to say her peace to him if she knew he was dying - or so I thought? But then later she clarified. She meant that if he asked to see her while on his deathbed - a deathbed confession so to speak - then she would come down. HUH? Not me I don't think.

I came home, still anxious and edgy. Did some deep breathing. Took a nice long bath, with more deep breathing. Laid on the couch while my head spun around and my heart beat out of my head. More deep breathing.

Then I ...cried. What the heck? What's up with that? I don't know why. I mean not out of sadness - I don't think. Maybe relief. His death would mean that my sister's and I desire that he die before Mom would come true. We wouldn't have to deal with him on Mom's estate. It would mean that I would no longer have to fear running into him. I would no longer have to fear him hurting any other child. There was also uncertainty about what Mom would do - would she now want a closer relationship with Sister and I? Now that he wasn't there to choose.

A few moments later, my sister called. I had just logged onto the computer to see if there was news. Sister told me the hospital had done a triple bypass and he was okay and in ICU. Mom and Sister were IM-ing and Mom wasn't sure if she wanted me added to the conversation - didn't want to upset me by telling me things I didn't want to hear. Sister added me anyway. Toilet is in ICU and heavily sedated - will be moved in a few days and then home and out of work for awhile. Mom went home to sleep and let the dog out (who goes home when their husband is in ICU?) and will go back in the morning. what? I don't know. I'm not sure what to do. My mother told me that she had talked to her sister (my aunt) and my grandparents and that they are excited about the baby. But no one emailed me. So I'm a bit perturbed at that. Once again, he is chosen over me? Put first, anyway.

I'm not sure what to do. Now I'm going to have to hear about his recovery. It would have been easier to be sympathetic to her if he was dead. Now I'll have to listen to her whine about money being tight. My Sister is in a predicament because when her husband was sick and out of work, mom sent her money. Now Sister feels like she should return the favor. I sent money last time Toilet was ill - actually I sent a grocery gift card and put gas in mom's car. I'm not going to send $$ that she will spend on alcohol and tobacco.

I'm pissed at crying. Or feeling slightly bad that he might be suffering. Part of me remembers some of the good times - I don't like that part. Part of me wanted to stomp the dirt over his grave - not real proud of that part either. I felt a pang of something bad at calling him "Toilet" - here this guy is on his death bed and I am calling him this. (why is it that when I finally figure out what I'm feeling or thinking, I just feel guilty about feeling that way?)

I have to wonder at the irony of God's timing. My first thought is GIVE ME XANAX now. Then T helped me see another side - if I had the ability to take xanax, I just might have taken two and reacted, without thinking of the consequences. Also, she reminded me that I now have a baby to think of. I can't just rush into a situation without thinking about how things might affect me later. I also have to deal with this. As Husband pointed out, if I can make it through this (and what choice do I have) then maybe I'll see that I can survive panicky/anxious situations without dying. (gee thanks - I'll just ignore that I feel like I'm dying).

Right now I'm edgy and anxious, dizzy and nauseous. Having hot flashes and the shakes. The deep breathing isn't helping much. The bath helped in the moment but I can't live there. My husband was supportive when I came home - hugged me and cleaned up after dinner so I could get in the bath. I explained ot him that I needed him to understand that I was moody and all over the place. He disappeared when I was on the phone and IM - talked to his mother on the phone. Didn't ask anything after I updated him. Just shrugged as if it was over and went on his way. Then he went in the other room because he didn't want to watch what I was watching. He is so clueless sometimes. Some help with dealing with this might be nice???

I'm not real sure what I'm supposed to do with this yet? I used to think I'd relish this situation - be gleefully happy at his suffering. But not so much so now. Anyone else been here? Any thoughts or suggestions?


Perfect said...

Just giving you {{{{hugs}}}}. Hang in there my friend.

Rising Rainbow said...

Last year at this time my mother died. I always thought I would have a big party when she died but I didn't. Maybe because I don't think my friends would understand or maybe because the party wouldn't be as big as I would really like it to be.

I felt sad as well. But not that she died. I think the sadness was for me. With her gone there was no hope she was ever going to step up and say she was sorry. There was no hope that my sick family would ever be anything but sick. As much as I don't expect there to be any other resolution, there is still that little sliver of hope until it's gone. With her death it was gone. I was sad for me, the child that never had a parent who loved her and never will.

And just for the record, I don't think there's anything wrong with you referring to him as Toilet here on your blog.

Listen to your T and be true to yourself. Don't do things for them out of obligation. It won't help your healing one bit and it sure isn't going to change anything with them.

Lynn said...

Whatever your feelings are, Enola, they are all there for reasons. There is a lot of life experience behind those feelings. I certainly don't judge you for ANY of them. I agree with the T and RR. Don't go out of your way AT ALL here. You have to think about your health and your new baby. Take good care of yourself.

Tink said...

Since our situations are so sadly similiar, I just want to tell you that you are in my thoughts and prayers.

I think it's great that you are doing what is right for you and the baby.

Here's a thought about your mom doing those things what seem odd to us- maybe a small part of her doesn't want him to survive. Maybe she figured that if he does die, her decision is made for her and in the end everyone would be happy.

Anonymous said...

My stepdad called me on his death bed to apologize. I told him what he wanted to hear, that I forgave him--and really, at the time I thought I did.

I know now that forgiveness for such heinous crimes can be a lifelong process.

Also, he asked forgiveness for "running you out of the house," a nice way of putting molestation and rape. I think he was scared to die (he should have been), so I don't know how sincere the apology was.

I didn't feel gleeful when he died. I didn't feel much of anything, actually.

As for you remembering some good times with Toilet: it still bugs me that my stepdad the pedophile was the only adult during all those years who showed me any affection. That really messes with my head big time.

I know it's not easy to simply allow yourself to feel without being your own critic. But your feelings truly aren't good or bad, they're just feelings and they are what they are for very good reasons.


Tina said...

I am sorry I missed this yesterday... ***Hugs*** to you as you try to find a way to deal with this.

I think part of the feeling of nothingness - instead of the celebration you expected to feel when you were told Toilet was dying - might come from the fact that, whether he be alive or dead, the scars of what he did to you will remain and transcend death. So, yes, if he were dead, he couldn't possibly hurt another living soul again and he would be facing his maker and accounting for his actions in his life. However, even in death, you would not get the peace you need to get past what he has done to you...because that peace can only come from you as you heal. So, his death would not be the end to this...and that can leave you feeling empty, detached, emotionless.

I think you have handled this very well - you have stood your ground and acted the way you wanted to act. You are coming into your own now...and I don't think that peace is the far ahead of you. You did a great job dealing with the anxiety of the situation you were placed in...even if it doesn't appear that way to you.

We are here FOR YOU if you need us...

Marj aka Thriver said...

Holy crap! Here we are, just going about business with the blog carnival, and you've got this bs to deal with!

Man, this is tough. I'm not sure what to tell you. Hhhmmmmm...

The only people from my family of origin that I'm still in contact with is my twin sister and one of my cousins. And I still had to deal with a similar situation when my cousin's daughter died and I had to see my mother at the funeral.

I was an hysterical, panicky mess just at the thought of seeing that evil woman. She thought I'd make all nicey-nice in public at the funeral. When she came at me for a hug and tried to pretend nothing ever happened, I wasn't rude, I was just assertive. I backed away and said calmly, "Please do not touch me without my permission." I think keeping yourself safe (and your unborn child) in these situations has to be the top priority. Nobody ever put you first. You have to put yourself (and your baby) first now.

keepers said...

when our mother died any sadness was because she never did say those things we never heard from her, no remorse, no acknowledgement of her part in our horrific childhood, so she went and we were freed, our healing began in earnest.

peace and blessings


Sometimes Saintly Nick said...

With all that’s happening, it sounds as if you’re stuck not in a double-bind but a quadruple-bind. That can be a hell of a place to be! May I suggest the old adage “To thyself be true” as I add my prayers for you?

Blessings, my dear Enola, and may you be blessed with shalom.

austin said...

I joke and laugh at my mother's suffering end but really the thought of losing her forever means never, ever being able to go back and make things right, never going back to hear her tell me how sorry she is for what happened. When an abuser dies, no matter how much we hate them, they leave us with a different page of healing to turn. That is so unfair. Do we want them around? No, but their damage doesn't stop simply because they're dead. So I can see how your issues would change from I want you dead to hang on, I'm not sure how I feel about this.

Death gives a finality for the living. We no longer get the chance to change things, even if the change would never happen we hold onto hopes that one day some magical thing will happen and it'll all be okay like it should have been. Death takes that magical thinking away and leaves us with a black reality. It's fun to think of them suffering but dead, well, that takes from us what we need so much. We need that thought in the back of our head that somehow it wasn't how we thought it was and it'll be explained away and things will be just fine. Death takes that from us. But it also feels so unjust because when they're no longer suffering among us we have to deal with the aftermath of their death. It's unfair, truly unfair.