So I PROMISE I will fill you in on the DR, I will. But tonight, life isn’t about that.
Tomorrow, I am flying “home” to MN. I’m going to get my house ready to sell. And I’m going to see the rescue office for the last time as we wrap up our lease and look to move our things out. The rescue is still rescuing, we just cannot afford our rent any longer. I will be seeing my doctor. My daughter. Working on my cell phones.
I’m dreading it. I’m dreading it to the point that I’m in a panic. I don’t want to go. And I don’t want to come back, either.
I’m tumbling. Just feeling unattached to anything or anyone. I don’t have solid ground under my feet. And I miss him so much. 😥 So much.
I will be walking into the home Michael and I shared for the first time in months. I don’t know if I’m ready to walk in and feel what we were and what is gone forever. I don’t know if I’m ready to walk into the rescue office that we worked on together and feel what that was and what is gone forever. And yet, when I leave there I leave all the people who love me.
One of the reasons I left MN was because I couldn’t handle the puppy dog eyes looking at me like I was pitiful. I couldn’t handle being a short drive from people who I loved and thought loved me, but they disappeared when he died. I couldn’t handle all the memories, the places, the restaurants, even the TV shows and the radio stations. I couldn’t handle running into someone at Home Depot who didn’t know, and having them ask how Michael is. I couldn’t handle people telling me how much they missed him when I was driving myself home from another ER trip because I was suicidal.
Be careful what you wish for. I ended up in a life that is so starkly opposite. Every single person I know here, has met me and only knows me going through the worst time in my life. And while they are aware of it, they don’t understand what it means. They don’t understand what it feels like to move to a foreign country in the fresh rawness of grief and suicidal thoughts, only to try to get a start and be robbed (yes, my house was broken into while I slept and my car was stolen and totaled – almost $10K spent and gone – no insurance was available so it’s just GONE). They don’t know what it’s like to be hostage in a house that isn’t your own because your car is gone, you are a loser who can’t get your own place to live after taking care of yourself for your whole life, and you have no access to cash. ON TOP OF grieving the only person you want to talk to about this. What they know is that I’m emotional. I’m insecure. I’m scared. I’m unsure. I cry a lot. I change my mind.
The only comfort I am taking in this trip I am dreading; seeing some good friends, and I will finally bring Michael home with me. I really think part of my sadness is that I left his ashes behind. I had plans on the first anniversary of his death that I couldn’t fulfill. And I need him here.
Last night I dreamt about him. I saw him in a parking lot. We ran to each other and hugged. I could feel him like it was real. And all I remember was whispering into his ear “please come home.” That’s what I woke up to this morning. I miss him so much. And every disagreement, every bit of tension or misunderstanding that happens, every time I have failed at a task, every time I am hurt by someone, makes me miss him more. And it makes me miss the people who do know me and understand that I need some patience and kindness and understanding and empathy. People who know that yes, I may act off or I may not always be emotionally even or rational but who don’t hold it against me.
Financially my life has fallen apart. I’ve been taken advantage of and used, and I have nothing. Nothing.
It’s been a lot. I miss being loved. And I really don’t know how to do this without him. So tomorrow I wake up again and stumble through it, try not to upset anyone including myself, and do my best to push through. Day by day.
That’s it for tonight.