A More Somber Update

"He has already anticipated my every want and need." 

RIP Grandpa Larry
08/20/1935 - 01/13/2017

My mother and I drove thousands of miles from Memphis to Middletown, CT last Thursday after she'd been getting news that her father went to the hospital with pneumonia. It's not uncommon considering his age, but he quickly declined within a week and we later learned that he hadn't been leaving bed much prior. He didn't talk about his health and was notorious for brushing things off as if everything is fine, a trait I seem to share. We made it in around 5-5:30 Eastern time, and he was not the man we knew. He was riddled with cancer, had cirrhosis, and was breathing laboriously through fluids, and finally passed about an hour later after getting to talk to Mom. I hadn't seen him since he came down to visit around Christmas of 2013, and the last time I was here was for his seventy-fifth birthday in 2011. Life tends to just get in the way once you reach a certain age, and it wasn't for lack of wanting to visit, but between my adult responsibilities that I began taking on too soon as a teenager and my addiction and the resulting consequences, leaving town was difficult. It's easier to drive fifteen hours or hop on a direct flight to visit Grandma in Florida than two days of driving or longer, more expensive flights to New England. Regardless, I have a lot of guilt around the situation, even though we hadn't had the opportunity to get as close as I would have liked. This side of my family is super close, and a part of me was always so envious of that. 

The biggest thing for me, however, was the opportunity to be here for my mother. (If I were still using, I couldn't have left -- I'd either still be high, dead, or still in treatment. Likewise, if I hadn't relapsed and was still clean, I'd have a job and school in the way of my leaving. I have to remember everything happens for a reason, just like it's supposed to, to put me right where I need to be.) Mom moved away from her entire family at eighteen after enlisting in the Navy, marrying, and moving to Tennessee, and has always carried guilt around that, especially once we were born and so far from everyone. Her brother moved to Memphis for a new start in 2002 and now has a family of his own, but he was able to make the drive right behind us. He didn't make it in time, but Mom called him and put it on speaker phone so he could say goodbye. It was one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever witnessed, to see someone pass right before my eyes, and to watch a woman as strong as my mother hurt like that. We were lucky to have cousins in the room with us who had been sitting with him, and he was so loved that friends and family never left his side the entire week. As much as we regret not having gotten here sooner, part of me is relieved that we weren't just in and out of the hospital and that he didn't suffer long. 

Mom and I went back to his apartment to stay and that first night was especially rough. We've been busying ourselves since then cleaning everything out, taking what we want or can give to other family members, and donating what we can of what's left. Grandpa had lived in this same apartment for over forty years, so there's a lot to go through! He's also where my Mom inherited her tendency to hoard everything, so we've had to clean out every possible nook and cranny and it's gotten to be overwhelming at times. My uncle and his wife brought their baby who hadn't gotten to meet Grandpa yet, but she's such a happy little thing and has served as quite the distraction when things have gotten tough. Saturday evening my cousins had everyone get together where there was so much food, and the house could hardly contain everyone. Kiana is the youngest, but there were two other small children I hadn't met before and CJ, who was much smaller the last time I was here. We talked and laughed and caught up, looked through lots of old photos (photography and family history is huge with this side of my family, which I appreciate; I don't know many other people these days who share my love of film and old cameras, either), and had a good time. Grandpa was always the life of the party, and what better way to remember him than by enjoying each other's company and telling his lame jokes? My uncle's family left on Tuesday after going over arrangements at the funeral home. It was Grandpa's wish to be cremated, and Mom plans on spreading his ashes most likely in Vermont, which he loved. We've found all kinds of amazing things, like a machete and a "brain harvester" (Mom needs to get her hearing checked!), an Edison phonograph, and Mom's childhood skateboard. We've been lucky to have lots of help and have made a huge dent in clearing things out, but there's still a lot of work to do before the end of the month, and I have to go home this weekend.

There's a huge part of me that is craving attention right now and maybe that's a big reason for me putting so much of this out there. It's not something I'm proud of. I'd like to project this image of someone who is so magically recovered and cured, but that's not at all the case. If there's anything I've learned time and time again, is that life happens and there's no perfect way to handle things. People come to me for suggestions and advice all the time, and it's so easy for me to take on their problems and forget about my own, but that only hurts me in the end. I've been putting off really talking about what's been bothering me the most because I keep feeling like if I ignore it, it's not really happening. I really need to take a social media break, because I can't stand being reminded of everything I'm losing and missing out on. I miss my best friend. I can't even properly be there for my Mom emotionally because I'm so preoccupied with my own shit and trying to numb the pain as best I can without acting out. I'd actually considered self-harm again the other day, talked about it to a friend, and a few hours later came across a package full of fresh straight razors. I'd be lying if I said I immediately threw them out; it took a few hours after hiding them in my bag, but I finally did. How is cutting myself over someone going to hurt them? They'll never know, and I'm left with the guilt and shame of acting on old behaviors. That's one more step backward and I haven't cut in nearly four months. Do I want to use over him? Yes, and no. Yes, so that I don't feel and because a part of me will always crave the drugs, but mostly no because I've seen too much death and destruction this month alone, and because of how my last relapse went. I nearly killed him trying to kill myself, and for that I will have to work long and hard on forgiving myself. I don't want to be that person anymore. I'm finally getting to a point where I'm mostly comfortable in my own skin again, I feel like though there isn't much going on for me externally, I do have value, and what good am I to him or anyone else if I'm high or dead? I've spent my entire life hating myself and thinking I had this great capacity for love, but how could I love anyone when I was so busy trying to destroy myself? I loved as hard as I could, and I still do. I miss people tremendously, whether they realize it or not. Years after going through painful situations I still lose sleep agonizing over the memories we had. That will keep me from making new, better memories, and I need to learn to not get so hung up on the past, which is a symptom of my depression. I'm learning to turn everything over every morning, every noon, every night, every day... trusting the process, and realizing that if it's not meant to be, there's nothing I can do to change it. True, unconditional love is about being able to set someone free anyway, right? As long as the ones I love are happy with or without me, that's all that matters. I'll never stop loving as hard as I do, but I don't have to be so sick and codependent about it. The only person I'll ever have forever is me, and I have to keep working on that relationship, because really, it could be something so beautiful.

Today's Twenty-Four Hours a Day

We're waiting now on Dad and my youngest sister to get here. A few hours ago they were near Scranton, PA, so it shouldn't be too much longer. We'd been getting help from cousins with the cleaning, lifting, and transporting, but everyone is busy today so we're kind of taking it easy. It's much prettier outside than the past few days, but still very cold. I don't mind the cold as long as it's not too windy or wet or the roads aren't awful, and luckily we haven't encountered any horrible weather since being here. It snowed some Saturday night, but once the sun came up Sunday morning, it was gone quickly. It's very different here than at home. I hate when it snows at home, because it's just a slushy, muddy mess and freezes over and no one knows how to handle it. Here, it takes some act of god to close down anything because they're so prepared and accustomed to it. Basically, I have no idea what we're doing today. I'm sure we'll go to eat once they get here, and I really want to go to at least one more meeting in town before I leave. Last night we went to Mom's friend's house, a woman she's known since high school, and that was fun and a nice escape from everything, but really I'm just ready to go home and be with my animals and my support system. I miss my meetings and even my IOP group! That's crazy to admit. I'm doing the best I can though, and that's all that matters.