Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Today isn't that day.

What I wouldn't give to be able to turn my brain off for just a few hours...I'd settle for long enough to get to sleep.

It would be safe to say, I've had a lot on my plate the last few weeks. Months even. Possibly a year. Possibly more. But, for the moment, we'll stick to the recent past. Two weeks ago today (or technically, yesterday, at this point, but I don't count it a day until one goes to sleep and wakes up again...) my dog Bogey died. I keep find little bits of our life together everywhere I look. His sweatshirt blanket. His hair brush. His tattered security squirrel. His little green tennis balls. I can't even blow dry my hair without thinking of him, as he always demanded a blow dry as well...even when he wasn't wet. Memories on the boat. Memories camping. Memories going to Lowes and to Grandma's house. Everywhere memories, memories, memories. One day, they won't hurt as much. One day I will be able to recall them as beautifully wonderful times we spent together and not cry. One day. But not now. Now, they greet me painfully when I close my eyes. When I stretch out in bed unencumbered. When I realize I don't have to pick up those extras at the market. I don't have to rush home to let him out to potty or make sure he has his medicine before the thunderstorms hit. There aren't anymore Thursday night baths for Bogey. No more memories to make with Bogey.

As if all that wasn't enough, one week ago tomorrow (that's Tuesday for those keeping track) my cat Bunker died. My mother adopted Bunker for me when I was fifteen. I had just come to live with her and my stepfather and was having a lot of problems. Bunker became my everything. He was there when I woke up and we snuggled when I went to bed. He ate off my plate (noodles were a favorite). He used my shower time as a sauna. He used my bed as his own personal grooming station. He used my belly to 'mix.' I felt so incredibly, incredibly loved. And the love I feel for him is overwhelming. Yesterday I swept up the fur clumps. The tumbleweed reminders of my Noodle. I washed his favorite napping rug. The fur clumps will be ongoing. He was a very fluffy, furry cat and this house has swallowed its fair share of Bunker fur. His absence has been so painful. One day. One day I can remember all those wonderful, devoted years without pain. Today isn't that day.

I won't even go into job stability and my lack thereof at the moment. I am so incredibly stressed over this job. This ridiculous job. I can't even find the words. All I can say is, for now, I still have one. Thank you Judy.

Going back a little further...March 4, 2009. My life changed forever. Until then the baby growing inside me had been in the abstract. Present, but not. My body was doing all the work. I got to be a spectator (albeit a very abused one!). I got to watch the baby grow from the outside. A truly fascinating process. Amazing. Miraculous. Scientific. Then at 8:22am that Wednesday morning, Dr. Evers laid my beautiful baby girl on my chest as she drew her first breaths. My beautiful Sadie Jane. Amazing. Miraculous. (Exhausting!) I had no idea a person could fall in love so quickly. For as disconnected as I was from her while she was growing inside of me, I fell in love in a moment and my life was changed forever. I haven't figured out what kind of mother I will turn out to be, but I know that my darling baby girl will never, ever doubt my absolute love for her.

Breathe. G-d has chosen this for me.

Here's the deal with G-d at this particular moment in time. I'm pissed. I'm not sure if you're really supposed to be pissed at G-d, but I totally am. I want Bogey back. I want Bunker back. I want a good job. I want the people of this town to catch a damn break. I want Sadie to have an amazingly wonderful, full life. I want to end world hunger and create world peace. Is that too damn much to ask for? What have I done to displease Him? PLEASE tell me. I have gotten to the point where I've said goodbye to two of my most beloved family members and I cannot take it anymore. Am I supposed to be learning something? Is this supposed to teach me to love them while they are here and give them what I can and then say goodbye? How do you do that gracefully? How do you do that without falling apart? Here's what I've learned so far: I am afraid to go to sleep. What if I lose Sadie next? Or John? What if something happens and there's something I can do about it or worse, I can't. I can't sleep. I want to do nothing but snuggle Sadie into bed with me, but I'm afraid I might hurt her so I put her in her crib, but I'm always afraid she'll be cold, but I'm afraid to put her in a blanket....

My therapist says these are "ruminating thoughts" and I need to put them out of my mind when I try to go to sleep. Right now, I can't STOP THINKING. About everything. About Bogey and Bunker and Tracy (and screwing that up) and Sadie and John and the rest of my furry family and my Mom and ..... I just can't stop thinking. I am so very, very tired and I would give anything (with a few exceptions) to just be able to flip a switch and turn my brain off for a few peaceful, dreamless hours of sleep.

I love my daughter. I love my pets. I love my husband. I love my G-d. But, I hurt so very, very much and I am so very, very angry. One day I won't be. Today isn't that day.

1 comment:

  1. Your post brought tears to my eyes Sam. That pain is so real and so raw right now. I completely understand your anger and your fears. It's tough to put things like that out of your mind and just "turn your brain off" to get some sleep.

    It's easy to be angry. We are human and we experience those overwhelming emotions. In our minds we know that what happens, happens for a reason. The journey and the pain just suck sometimes.

    I'll add you to my prayers in hopes that you will find some peace among the raging anger, fear, and sadness you are experiencing right now. *hugs*