Tuesday, August 20, 2013
I've been in the closet this morning, it's like a ritual. The tears start to flow and I say a prayer for comfort. I don't know if you can cry any louder in a sound proof room but I do.
My dietician called yesterday and left a message. I just heard the message a few minutes ago and that sent me over the edge. I thought of everything that she said. All the reminders of what I needed to do. Then it hit me, I could've screwed that up too. I took the meds that she told me to take, tried to eat the right things. Where did I go wrong?
I was talking to a friend yesterday. As much as I love this friend, I couldn't talk anymore because it wanted to do the blame game. Maybe you shouldn't have gone to San Diego. You shouldn't have done this, done that. Here I am trying to tell it that when I left on vacation, I left with an ok by my attending physician. I tried to explain that I didn't over exert myself because I was in a wheelchair most of the time but my words had fallen on deaf ears. Other subjects came up as well and I said that I just couldn't engage into conversation about it because I am too broken up to hear it. God knows what's in my heart and mind. God is the one that is calling the shots here. All I can ask for is guidance, strength, love, faith and compassion. Compassion is what some people lack. Why is it that some people think that they know everything when they don't? Why does everyone think that they know what is best for you? Why does everyone want to tell you what you did wrong? Honestly, some people just need to leave things well enough alone. They wonder why some don't want to talk or see people in times of grief and loss. Because the one that is suffering the grief and loss doesn't want to hear where they went wrong, why this could have happened, whose fault it is. Do you think there isn't enough guilt there? All we want is friendship, love and support during this difficult time but the sad thing here is, some decide to add the difficult time to their support. I know some of you understand what I'm trying to say. If you do, can you let me know that you understand?
I spoke to my mother for the first time since Amelia had passed away. I was trying to avoid the blame game with her because she is my mother and I know how she is. All she said was, you know, somethings don't work out, it could've been your age, the fact that your body doesn't work right, high blood pressure and Type II (thank you mom and dad). She wondered about Amelia, about her passing, and I told my mother that my daughter looked like me. That broke her heart because she probably thought I wouldn't see her after she passed. Aaron and I did see her. Aaron saw her first a little bit after she was out, me, I saw her the next day. All in all, my conversation with my mother was good.
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