Even At This Age: Gathering Up My Proverbial Chite

 

 

Packing, unpacking, repacking.  That is my full day of work these days.  I have a major list, a minor list, a list for dogs, a list to do before we go, a list to get when we get where we are going.  My typical anxiety rides in my bones as I busy myself.  In between times I am making Christmas ornaments and gifts to take with me.  I wake up in the night and work on painting and sewing and reorganizing.  I will be glad to get in the car and begin the three-day drive.  Then I settle in and get excited.  Until then, trip anxiety, as usual. 

There are dogs to arrange to have a vacation at our neighbors.  They need their beds, their blankies, their toys.  They need their food and treats.  They are going to learn to go “walkie” night and morning so they need their jackets, leashes and halters.  I am sending their barking collars that buzz, just because.  There are instructions on sleep time, potty times, night rituals.  I expect little Winnies to regress with his potty training so I need to take potty pads, pooper scooper, containers.   Winnie has wicked separation anxiety so I am sure he is going to have Issues.  He cannot bear for me to go into the bathroom and close the door without issues.  The two are going to have to deal with an adult that works and is not there for their every beck and call... read:  bark and cry. I have angst about that because Winnie is still a baby and our neighbor is used to big dogs and their patterns.  Winnie is a Deer-faced chihuahua and a whole different breed.  For instance, he will not go where it is dirty.  And our neighbor might not have the time to keep up with him.  I worry that she will be angry with him… he is such a baby.

I have to pack medicine, gauzes, tapes, creams, betadine, and medicinal strips for The Bee Man’s leg and foot. I have a whole case of the meds and socks and wraps used by Home Care to take.  That gives me angst because I have to be able to put on and take off his compression stockings and make sure he does not get sores happening.   Driving is not going to help a leg that needs to be up more than down during the day.

I am fussing because everything I own is for three sizes bigger than I am now.  I worry about how to keep my sugars up or down at its own will.  I worry about me having to drive for long periods because I get tired and so does The Bee Man.  I worry about the roads and the weather.  I worry about Cabbage Hill, one of the highest roads to climb in Western States.  I worry about being cold and taking clothes for the two days we will be in winter and then clothes for the warmer climate of Southern Arizona.  My thought is to take as little as necessary and buy clothes that fit down there.

I worry about having enough finances to make do in case of emergencies.  I worry about having to walk for hours in a casino while The Bee Man continues to play Black Jack.  I worry about having to get medicines or have problems with BP or BS down there.  I am worrying about having enough Ozempic for the two weeks since I am on a list to receive mine and I am 60 or 70 on the list and they cannot promise to have any for me before then.  My blood sugars are not stabilized without it.  I am fussing because they need to be giving it to diabetics that need it before they give it to those who are using it for weight loss.

 I have noticed, along with pre-travel angst, that I have been living my life with a deep gaping ledge just below the surface of all I do and say.  It has been here since JanaDee died.  It is like bits of my body, mind, heart and soul have a great crack and the crack goes deep.  Things are not flowing like they should.  There seems to be a space of time, maybe even millisecond, where my heart is saying, “she is gone.. she is gone...” and it echoes up into my consciousness.  I cannot express it any differently.  It is like I am driving a car full speed, doing whatever it is I am doing, and I brake just in time to avoid falling in.  The falling in is something I have been avoiding.  It is a huge cavernous hole that is dark and I would not be able to find my way out.  It is why I keep super busy.  It is why I watch tv at night until I nod off.  It is why I cannot get out and do things.  I am lethargically busy.  I am going to talk to some Medicine People before I go on this trip.  Maybe their counsel will give me room for thought while I am gone and I can gather up those parts of me that need stitching together. 

I will be excited when we are in the vehicle and on our way.  I am sure I am experiencing fear, again (my theme for the year was “Conquer Fear:  Determination, Trust”) in that I fear good things happening because it gets taken away in some way.  We are such complex beings...I am a complex being.  So many “leftovers” affect us without us even knowing the reason.  I have had so much experience in conquering fears and this year has been a great pressure cooker for that.  This trip anxiety is just another way for me to conquer fear in my life.  Losing JanaDee has affected me in ways that one would not expect and others cannot understand unless they have had to deal with complex grief.  The sorrow is nearly gone but there are still residuals of abandonment and rejection to work on.  One would think that when we got this old that we would have more of our proverbial chite together.    I wonder what my theme/word of the year will be for next year. 

©Carol Desjarlais 11. 23.23

 

Braving It Through Betrayal

 

 

I think most of us have experienced betrayal.  I wonder how many have experienced betrayal by a lifelong friend?  It has been a severe wounding that it has happened to me, at my age, no less.  We should have friendships that last a lifetime.  I had three.  I, now, have one. There is a huge lesson for me to learn over the last couple of years.  For a time, it haunts us.  We could spend a great deal of time obsessing over it.  Or, we could simple turn around and walk away, without defence or sense of retribution.   I chose the latter.

What once felt like friendships that were full and round and wonderful, a sense of sisterhood and camaraderie, and love.,.yes,..great love, became a great sense of loss.  They had become destructive, unhealthy and negative and the endings were full of betrayal of different sorts, but betrayal.  There is deep trauma and if you have never experienced it, you will not be able to relate to having the sacred trust broken. You cannot fully define the kind of support, love, loyalty, affection, respect that a sisterhood is nor how trust is destroyed with an incident, or incidents, that build to the final ending of broken confidence(s) or a jealousy turned mean.  That walk away is done with great sorrow.  There is a hollow chamber in your very soul that echoes with emptiness. 

How does it come to this?  How does a beloved sisterfriend go from being closer than blood sisters to a bully, to becoming someone who takes all the weaknesses and secrets of your lifetime friendship and uses them to hurt you?    How does great love turn into character assassination with underhanded gossip or with intentional outright emotional attacks by someone who knows how best to hurt you?  How demoralizing.  One’s deepest vulnerabilities, learned over a lifetime between growing up and growing old can be used to wound us.  It sends us into deep mourning, a place where we question everything we knew about friendships, about sisterhood, about ourselves.  How then do we deal with this?  How do we not stop trusting anyone?  How do we go from being stunned and hurt in the deepest places of our heart and soul, to a healing?  How do we make do without them in our lives?

It takes time.  It takes days of longing to go figure out how to remake the friendship and knowing that you simply cannot.  It is up to them to come make it right.  If they are narcissistic, it may never happen so we have to go on without them.  But, a couple of years have gone by and you regain some perspective about yourself, never mind of them.

At some point, you stop feeling defensive, letting go of the anger, letting go of some of the hurt, and you find opportunity to really look at yourself and all your relationships.  At some point, you stop taking it personally and you begin to understand how loss of compassion may be a cycle in their lives and you realize you have been hurt by a hurt person.  Their hurt must have been really huge for them to destroy a relationship that once meant so much to both of you.

As you come to more of an understanding, you have to understand that over-thinking the whole thing is useless.  We cannot know what drives others to do what they do.  All we can come to understand is how we allowed it to disintegrate into what it became. We have to not focus on the “what happened” to understanding some of the real emotion behind the betrayal.   Do not respond to them, respond to yourself.  Understand that inevitable WHY.  Refuse to stay stuck in the muck of the final straw.

Any personal trauma can trigger our past traumas that relate in any way.  Abandonment and rejection has always been an issue with me because of the Primal Wound.  If you want to hurt me, you know this, and this is how you will hurt me.  In one case, it was a purposeful misinterpretation of what I said.  I had revealed something that I meant to make her know how very deeply I cared for her.  It was betrayed by her going to my abuser and then to a friend and misrepresented what I said.  I was devastated.  I did not do anything but turn away and walk away.  That is an uncommon thing for me.  Typically, I will try to make it right.  I would get defensive.  This was too deep a wound.

My oldest daughter died and not a word from her, even in that.  That, again wounded me, that she cared so little.  In the other case, “Condolences” is all that was sent by text.  Nothing.  Both have one daughter.  Both would know how devastating that had to be for me.  They have not healed nor tried to make right, their wrong. It pried open the scabs left of the original wounding, of course.  I have spent nights since my daughter died, trying to figure out how someone who as loving and kind and compassionate could turn so cold.  The respect and kindness, on their part was gone.  I was numb to them all over again. 

I forgive easily, typically.  This is not even a need for forgiveness.  This is for me to learn to love myself in spite of their ire.  I trusted the wrong people, for decades.  I cannot believe that either of them is not feeling loss as well.  Even through the rigidity of their narcissism, I would have thought that, of all reasons, that alone would lead them to some compassion.  Both friendships are irretrievable.  I avoid them by making sure they can no longer get through to me and try to rebuild a relationship.  Both are broken forever.  I cannot let such people into my life again.  I have looked deeply at the rest of my friendships and am making sure there are no red flags.  I no longer consider being vulnerable to them part of friendship.  I do not trust and I am working on that with the relationships I have left.  I am still learning the lessons offered. 

I must remain vigilant, so that a weak moment of grief over their loss does not draw me back in.  I have to stand guard on myself as I stand alone without them.  Through all this I have learned that my love is full and deep and ever even if I am not loved back.  It is enough that I love and forgive even though with a leery heart.  The most brave thing I can do is love in spite of it all, and from a great diostance.

©Carol Desjarlais 11.22.23

 

I Am Slowly Learning: Carol

 

 

I am slowly learning that I am the answer to my own prayers.  I make it happen if I want it bad enough and it was meant to be.

I am slowly learning that happiness is not something outside of me.  I choose to be happy or not.

I am slowly learning that I CAN do it myself.

I am slowly learning that there is a flow to days and I am best to just let myself go with the flow rather than rush around being busy.

I am slowly learning what really brings joy, albeit fleeting due to life being life.

I am slowly learning that I attract certain personalities to me.  If this is so, I have to really look at the kinds of personalities I am drawing to me.

I am slowly learning to let the grieved grieve, to let the sad be sad, to let the angry be angry, because I do not belong “fixing” their karma.

I am slowly learning that it does not matter if those I love love me back.  That I love is what matters.

I am slowly learning to see my flaws and character weaknesses and have better control over them.

I am slowly learning not to take offence easily.  A critique is simply someone else’s opinion of me that have not walked in my shoes.  Smile and nod and walk away!

I am slowly learning to trust my own intuition better than I have.  I have to acknowledge that I ‘know’ things and quietly go about those things.

I am slowly learning it does not matter what others think about death.  My own spiritual opinion matters not to anyone else but me.

I am slowly learning to, completely and adoringly, love myself.

I am slowly learning how to winnow out the weeds and how to be grateful for the reason(s) that they were in my life and that they are now not a part of my life.

I am slowly learning, truly, truly, learning, that some people admire me and that they do so according to their own needs and desires.  I am not here to fulfill anyone else’s destiny but my own.

I am slowly learning what a hero I have been, what a champion of my own life, what a courageous, awesome person I have been and remain being.

©Carol Desjarlais 11.20.23