******TRIGGER WARNING********
death, suicide, drug addiction and mental health
I know I’ve probably mentioned this several times over the years. Acknowledging that I’m not very good at this. Well, over the last few years it’s been incredibly difficult to write here. Truth is there has been allot of loss the last 4 years, maybe. My mother passing was one of the most difficult experiences. Her being sick and the family drama that ensued. And then when she died. I lost her and my world changed. I lost what felt like my whole family when she died. I lost pieces of me. And when I got back home up north. I started noticing that I was probably going to lose my marriage. The whole experience changed me.
When we took in my baby brother to help him battle addiction. And when my baby brother got on the bus to head back home to Houston against my advice. “Houston is home,” he’d tell me… I just knew that was going to be the last time I’d ever see him. And it was. He went back to drugs and a stranger found him under a freeway. I got the call I had been dreading. The call every loved one of an addict fears. Overdose or suicide.
It’s difficult to type these things because the screen gets so blurry through my tears and my heart hurts so much remembering that day. Thinking about how I randomly smelled his cologne a week before that call. The guilt of thinking I should’ve done more. Coming back to the logic that it was ultimately his responsibility to get the help he needed. His responsibility to go to meetings, continue talking to a therapist and treating his mental health. This comes out much harsher in text than I intend. Bluntly speaking, this is what I have to remember every time. I have to remember these things. No matter how harsh it sounds. Every. Singe. Time.
Two of my most favorite people in the universe gone. People told me part of the process was being angry at whoever died. I wasn’t ever angry at Mom. I was angry at allot of family members. Angry at allot of people and hearing their cliche responses “If there’s anything you need just let us know.” Still gets under my skin actually. Knowing. I know they mean well. During her illness and my grief that suggestion was overwhelming. I knew there were allot of things I probably needed when mom was sick.
When my baby brother died. I was very angry. I was angry at Houston. Yeah. An entire city! I began to hate my hometown! Mom and my baby brother. My favorite people. And a ton of memories in Houston. Throw in all the other negative memories growing up in Houston, dating in Houston, crazy friendships and exes in Houston. I was angry at Houston. Like it was the dark, burning pit of hell. There’s nothing good there.. And yes, I was pretty angry at my baby brother. I was angry at drugs. I was angry at myself and friends from high school because he was with us sometimes when we partied. I was angry that I wasn’t his mother to go identify the body at the morgue. My dad had to. That was the first time he’d seen his son in years. And the last time. I was angry when I was told there wouldn’t be a funeral based off what they wanted. Not the fact that he was too decomposed or what he might’ve wanted. I was angry at myself for not really voicing that fact. Instead I just told them he didn’t want that anyway. And it really sucked because I loved him soo damn much. There was anger.
Fuck Cancer! Fuuuuck Crystal Meth! And FUCK the healthcare system!!
And through all of this. All this grieving and anger. I felt that I had walked through it alone. And I was so looking forward to coming back to my wife after being away for so long taking care of Mom. My partner was right there in front of me when my brother passed. I mean, thank you for staying on the phone with the ME once she asked about his mental health and drug addiction. Thank you for supplying the bottles for the temporary numbness desired during death. But, I was alone.
After coming through the grieving of Mom’s passing I had a different outlook on life. YOLO? In doing so I started finding bits of me growing again, feeling better about me and myself. Internal and external. After my brother died, feeling alone again. I was experiencing another death. It was just another loss followed by another feeling of loneliness with another approach to life.
Then the realities of my marriage were put into perspective. All human flaws aside because we’re not perfect. I’m not perfect. Don’t misunderstand. I have my own shit that I have done. And don’t think for a second that i didn’t keep trying and keep hoping that I would have my best friend back. Anytime, a discussion about the relationship would come up her response was something like I should give her a prize for being a decent human being. I was alone and there was neglect. Neglect in communication, neglect in intimacy, neglect in a hunger for life with me, neglect in evolving. Neglect in creating a life. Neglect in being present. There was a lot of neglect. Therapy was suggested years ago. Never happened. In March 2019, therapy was suggested again because I was just done and it was another round of V.V.’s giving up on us. And this was my final. If i couldn’t get my best friend back, we couldn’t figure out intimacy, couldn’t manage/discuss finances as a couple, couldn’t feel like a damn couple…I wanted out. Things I made very clear prior to marriage. These were the items of frustration for years.
So, I really, really cannot stand being told that I give up on a relationship. I wait and hope and keep hoping for years, folks! Years! Left for Texas with whatever I could throw in my car and what little money was left in the joint checking account. I cannot stress this enough.
Generally speaking, You can try to beat me down all you want. Choose your damn weapon of manipulation and control. But, I will always come out better and survive. I had nothing after the first marriage and again after this one. And who’s still here smiling? That’s right. Me.
Silver lining? I probably never would’ve left if she didn’t do what she did. It takes two to make or break a relationship. Any relationship.
In all the loss I’ve made attempts at finding the logic, the silver linings and the rebirth that follows any decay. With Mom, I found my body renewed. I found what my body was capable of. She died because of cancer. Her body turned against her. So, I guess, that was my rebirth. To love, care and appreciate my body. Finding out I was healthy, that I was attracted to myself, at least. That I wanted to live more and not just exist. When my brother passed I eventually found a new appreciation for mental health. I started focusing on my own mindset in life. I started paying attention to my childhood and how these things have affected my upbringing. In conversations with my brother he taught me bits of anxiety and triggers. Another silver lining with my brother passing was my dad has now reconnected with his other son. With every loss or death there is a birth or transformation. Usually positive. With the cheating, neglect, theft and divorce. And the years it took for me to leave. I learned to not wait so long. That I don’t give up too easily. I realized the importance of my needs and wants. I began digging into love languages and putting words and being able to elaborate with terminology the items i deeply need in a relationship.
The split also brought me back home. This was a fear and relief all at once. Remember I was angry at Houston. At this point though Houston became a sore. And I didn’t relocate to Houston. I drove to Austin. So, I wasn’t completely back home. I was completely alone up north. My people were in Texas. Friends who are like family are in Texas. It’s an incredible sense of comfort knowing they are only a couple of hours away. I can plan a weekend to go visit my dad. Which I’m incredibly thankful for currently. I have friends and family in Houston. So, there’s my silver linings. Something about that Texas sky y’all…it brought this Strong Southern Bitch back in my heart and soul. You’re right little brother…Texas is home. It will always be home. And like home and family…I love it as fiercely as I might hate it at times.
There has been a lot of loss over the years. There has also been a lot of reconnections and reflections. It’s been quite the ride and it just hasn’t been easy to put it all to the keyboard. Most of the time not really wanting to either. Too hurtful, my own learning to put words to feelings. Also, simply just wanting to focus on life. Experiencing everything and just being in it completely. Focusing on me, learning me again.
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