November 20, 2001
Hi sweetie,
I don?t really feel angry this morning ? for a change. I feel frustrated but that?s more because I?ve been writing and journaling and bits and pieces of it are here at work and other bits and pieces are at home, and I?m trying to keep the whole thing together.
I think I remember you from a dream this morning. I?m sorry I didn?t write it down. I thought about it but many of the images seemed to fade before I could get the paper and pencil. I remember you sitting there talking to me, and you looked healthy and young and you were smiling. The other night?and I thought I wrote about this in a journal entry somewhere but now I can?t FIND it?I woke up around 5:07, it was about the time there was going to be a meteor shower. I think I dreamed we made love?it seemed that way to me, and that I thought I should wake up and wake up the kids to see the meteor shower?but I didn?t. I fell asleep, thinking that Billy set his alarm. He forgot, of course, and we missed it. It?s something you would have loved to have seen! I?ll bet you were watching it, weren?t you? And the dream I had last night, I wonder if that was in response to my question from the other day: are you there? Do you hear me? I think it was to come and say, yes, you are here and you do hear me. Maybe that?s why I don?t feel so angry today.
Heidi was a perfect beast yesterday and I am pretty mad at her. I think part of her problem is she hasn?t been taking the Zoloft like she should. Anyway, the issue remains that the kids refuse to pick up after themselves. It?s really getting on my nerves. The house is a mess, and I refuse to have to pick up after these kids like they?re royalty or something. I mean, they leave their trash lying around and dirty glasses lying out! I don?t think it?s asking too much to make them pick up after themselves. So I?m dumping everything into a box today. And I guess that?s what I?ll do every day. Dump their stuff into one big box. Ugh.
Anyway, Heidi was just perfectly ugly. She was pissed off about having to go to the dr?s office, saying it was a waste of money and that the dr couldn?t help her anyway. Then, in terms of cleaning up, she said she couldn?t understand why I got so upset about the way the place looks, she cleaned YESTERDAY (first of all, no, she didn?t and second of all, the place was a huge mess!) ? and that she wasn?t going to do anything at all until I was nicer to her. I told her if she was going to use blackmail and stuff then I was not going to speak to her.
As she and Billy brought in the groceries, she was screaming and carrying on. Apparently our neighbor on the corner heard and came to ask what was going on because I could hear Billy explaining oh she is just upset about having to clean up or something. I told Heidi, I hope the neighbor calls DSS again. You?re so miserable, you should go live somewhere else. Kristin immediately got upset and I felt bad about saying it but you know what? Heidi is miserable ALL THE TIME. Maybe she really would be better off somewhere else!
Well, I took Heidi?s prescription over to Pathmark and then went out to have Chinese food. I thought to myself: why am I going to come home and cook and these kids are not going to lift a finger to help me with anything? Eh, I?ll get my own dinner. I called home and told them I was going to pick up the medicine and that they should make dinner without me. It was easy enough to prepare, hotdogs, beans and salad. Do you think anyone could do the dishes or the pots and pans though? What is it going to take to get through to these kids?
I had Heidi screaming at me again?and meanwhile, her medicine costs $50 because it?s one of those expensive new drugs. Billy?s new inhaler cost $75. I had to call the drs to find out if there is something else they can substitute. It?s stuff like this that I HATE, Rich!
I was reading this handout Joanne gave the group last week, and it really connected with me. It was written by a woman named Sharon Ohnemus after her husband died. Interestingly enough, she died too about a year later. Anyway, this is what she wrote:
?when I lost my husband, I lost part of myself. During my marriage, I had nearly forgotten who I am, because I was part of ?we?. Now, again, I have had to become whole, in and of myself. No longer are there two pairs of eyes, two pairs of arms, two hearts entwined, two souls enmeshed. Like the painful separation of Siamese twins, there is a critical period after the surgery where survival is questionable?followed by a long period of healing.?
It?s not only becoming whole again ? I am not even the same person I was when we first met. I am not sure WHO I am?just feel that a very essential piece of me is irrevocably gone. I feel bereft. Lonely, sad?what was amputated isn?t there, but it aches.
?When I lost my husband I lost my best friend. Now who will share my secrets? Who is going to like me in spite of my faults? Who will bolster my ego, make me laugh when I?d rather pout or cry, be my sounding board and not tell or get angry? Who?s going to tell it to me straight because I need to be told!?
Do you know that there is NO ONE who knows me as well as you did? And even you didn?t know everything there was to know while you were alive. I was so messed up it was hard to put my trust in someone. I don?t think that I even know all there is to know about me. More later?