Journal

I feel so lost, so very lost.  This must be some new phase that I haven't been through yet.  I'm not even sure if it has anything at all to do with grief.  I do know it is a result of the grief because the grief is from losing the one most important person in my life and he's not here anymore and so my life is changed forever.  In a few more days it'll be 20 long months since the day I lost Dean.  That's almost 2 years.  This is still, to this day so unimaginable...me, alone and him gone...forever.  I have fallen into such a rut, if that's what it's called.  I just don't want to do anything.  I discovered Facebook a month or so ago and they have a game there called Farmville.  I started to play it as a distraction, something to do I guess.  Now I live there.  I have literally moved into a stupid game on the internet.  How lame is that?  I've pretty much lost interest in everything around me.  I do what absolutely needs to be done and the rest just sits and I have no inclination to even touch any of it.  This is not a good thing.  And it needs to change but I haven't felt like pushing myself to get back to living yet.  This is way off track from where I had gotten to.

I was picking up my son from work this evening when a song came on the radio.  Right before Dean died he had found a new "oldies" station and set it on the radio in my car.  I've never changed it from there.  I''ve always felt since he died that it would be sacreligious to move that radio dial.  Just me and my sentimentality, I guess.  Anyway, the song they played was "Sugar, Sugar" by the Archies.  Now it's not a sad song but the fact of the matter is that Dean and I have been fond of the oldies since way back when they weren't the oldies, but the current music that we listened to at the time.  This particular song - I could remember in the back of my mind him singing it and acting goofy like he had a tendency to do at times.  Just something to get me to laugh at him...him being silly.  Boy, that was all it took for the tears to stream.  I continued driving, staring straight ahead and every now and then my son would say something or ask a question but since he doesn't look at me when he talks I don't think he knew how upset I was.  I've been feeling very melancholy since then and so I started thinking tonight.  Me and thinking...now that's a lethal combination.  I either wind up in tears or beat myself up for slipping back to where I thought I had moved from quite some time ago.  Is this ever going to end?

I think it will but somehow I've got to find that motivation that I've misplaced somewhere.  I've either misplaced it or simply hidden it as an excuse to stop moving forward.  Why would I want to do that?  Probably because I'm in a brand new place now.  Awhile back I felt as if I had one foot in the past and one foot in the future and was being pulled in two different directions and getting nowhere.  At least that's the scenario I had pictured in my head and in my heart.  In reality I think it was just a figment of my imagination - a safe place, of sorts.  In other words, as long as I thought this was the reality of it all I had an excuse to feel caught in the middle and reluctant to move forward.  I prolonged it as long as possible feeling like this is just the way it is when you lose your significant other that you've built a life and a future with.  Someone who was always there in the past and who you thought would always be there in the future.  And then, suddenly - ZAP! - he's gone and you're left alone to figure out where in the hell you belong now.  It was a haven for awhile and I allowed myself to stay there as long as possible saying it was because I was figuring out just what my future would be without him.  It was okay, I was entitled to that much...but now that time is here and I don't know any more now what to do than what I did before.  Only now I have to make some kind of decisions about the future and I have no idea where to start.  I am no longer existing partially in the past and the future at the same time.  I'm out of the past but not yet into the future - like in a holding area and more and more I'm feeling like "why can't I just stay here forever?"  I don't have the courage to move from this spot that I seem to be frozen in now.  And as a result, I've become an internet junkie who lives in a make-believe place.  I already know that I need help and as usual I'm trying to do it on my own and every day that comes along I tell myself - today will be different and guess what?  It's always the same as the day before.  Why hasn't someone invented a pill yet to beat this kind of condition?  I'm sure it must have a name.  It feels real to me so it must be real, right?  Or is it all in my head?  Maybe I'm just dreaming...maybe the whole past, almost 20 months, has only been a dream...and maybe not...he's still not here and he's never stayed gone this long so this has to be real.  I think I am losing my mind.

Okay, Judi...you know you're stronger than this.  Pull yourself together and put your head back on straight and let's get this show on the road.  That would work just fine if I could just find the instruction manual somewhere...the one titled "How To Learn How To Live Again Without Your Husband".  Maybe someone could just return me to the manufacturer to be refurbished.  Then I wouldn't have to face all these insecurities that I would never in a million years have pictured me having.

Don't mind this, I will figure it out eventually.  It may take me awhile but I'm a survivor and I will get it together one of these days.  In the meantime, I just had to put it into words and get it out there to relieve some of the pressure.

After I wrote what I did earlier I decided that I needed to have a talk with Corey - once again.  He didn't get up until 2 p.m. today and when I decided to talk to him it was 4 p.m.  When I walked back to his room and opened the door I found him curled up in bed under his covers.  My first instinct was to just close the door and walk away...discouraged once again that he is sinking further and further into this depressive state that he's been in and that I can't seem to do anything about it.  As I walked down the hallway away from his room I had second thoughts and went back.  I opened his door again and called his name and he opened his eyes and I could tell by the look on his face that he wished he could just pull the covers over his head and make me disappear.  But I stood fast and didn't let this discourage me.  I had also decided that I was going to speak to him in my kindest, gentlest (but firm) tone so that there would be no mistake that what I was saying to him was coming from anything but love and concern for him.

I started off the conversation by telling him that I refused to allow him to turn into a vegetable.  I told him that I didn't think he had a mental illness but I did strongly believe that he has mental issues.  I had done some serious praying about this before I decided to talk to him and asked God to PLEASE take all of the love that I have in my heart for this child and turn it into just the right words that would have some sort of positive effect on him.  I almost felt as if this was my last chance to try to get through to him and I didn't want to blow it.  I also asked him if he could possibly be still grieving for his dad and he screwed up his face and said no.  That, right there, told me that maybe I could be on the right track.  I told him that this depressive state that he's been in, though it is so easy to just give into it, that by getting up and doing something would most likely help him feel better in the long run.  I wasn't really expecting him to understand that one but I shared with him something my mom told me a long time ago.  That when you live in a cluttered, dirty, messy room it tends to make you even more depressed.  It does nothing to lift your spirits.  I tried to explain to him that this is why alot of people get into exercising because it releases the "good endorphins" in the brain and actually makes you feel better.  I don't know, maybe he learned this in his pyschology class in his senior year and just needed to be reminded of it.

That's a big part of what he's going through, I believe, is that his room is so depressing the way it is.  I know, for me it is just looking at it.  I can only imagine what it's like living in it although he's told me repeatedly that he likes it that way and that it doesn't bother him.  But it's unacceptable and something needed to be done about it once and for all.  I told him that the time has come that he either takes care of it or it can no longer belong to him.  And I told him since we got rid of the "kiddie furniture" (the kind you put together yourself) the other day I would like to buy him a few new pieces to put in there and hopefully turn it into a " young adult's" room, one that would hopefully help him feel like he's growing up, maybe make him feel like he's moving forward instead of staying a kid.  But I told him that for me to do this he had to clear it up because I couldn't have new furniture delivered and not have a place to put it.

I kind of feel sometimes that Corey is having a difficult time with this new transition in his life of me letting go of him.  Not him letting go, but of me letting go.  I think he gets scared that I'm not going to be there to "catch him" when he falls anymore.  I told him that he has to learn to trust me that I am not going to just abandon him but that I WILL NOT spoil him by giving him everything that he thinks he needs or wants.  I related to him about an uncle of his and mine who when he was very little and my grandma would give him cookies and one was broken he would throw the broken one across the room at her and demand to have one that wasn't and instead of her correcting his behavior she would just give him another one and she did this sort of thing all of his life - she gave and gave and gave and never expected anything in return, not appreciation, gratitude, respect...  And now that he is in his 70's, long after my grandma has been gone, he is still the same way and to this day not too many people actually like him.  I asked Corey, "do you want to turn out like him?"  Of course, he said no.  Then I tried to relate to him that all that I ask of him around here is not for me to have control or be "the boss of him" but it is more to teach him that when you do for others that they are happy to do for you in return.  That the real world is all about give and take and not all about "me,me,me".  I want him to understand that what I do for him is because I love him and it would be nice to know that when I ask something of him that he would do it also out of love and not consider it a chore.

As the conversation went on, I noticed he was sitting up in his bed and eventually as I was getting ready to leave his room he was, by then, sitting on the edge of the bed.  I told him that I had said all that I had to say and I left and closed the door without telling him anymore what I wanted for him to do.  I thought I would just let him "digest" it all and take it from there.

It is now 10:30 p.m. and he's spent most of this evening cleaning out his room.  He even came to me a little while ago and wanted me to come and look at what he's done so far.  Wow!  It's not finished yet but he's made some really good progress.  I asked him if tackling his room today helped him to feel better like I had suggested to him earlier and he said yes, without hesitation.  PLEASE GOD, LET THIS BE A TURNING POINT!!!!

Even if we have to do this again and again, I have to keep trying.  Someone reminded me today that God never gives you more than you can handle.  Now I hated hearing this after Dean died.  It just didn't sound like the kind of thing you would say after losing a loved one.  But in this context where you're trying to finish raising a child and you hit a stumbling block like this - you just don't let it defeat you because if you do then it's like admitting that your child is not worth it.  And that's not true, of course, although there have been times it seemed like it just wasn't worth the trouble to keep going on.  So I was glad to be reminded of this today.

I haven't written in quite some time.  Just trying to make some sense out of my life.  What life though?  It will be 19 months on August 4 since Dean's been gone and when I'm not losing my mind and can think clearly I know that I have come a very long way.  My only obstacle seems to be now is...you guessed it, my son!  I think I have tried everything in my motherly arsenal to get him to understand that I am on his side and all of my efforts are only to try to help him be the kind, intelligent and caring young man that I know he is capable of being.  So far though that's not working.  There are days that I see little signs of what I know is there but there are other days that I don't even want to be here anymore.  Yet there is no place for me to go to get away from all of what seems to be driving me crazy.

I'm beginning to think that maybe the counselor has misdiagnosed what's going on with him.  His behavior is not what most people would call normal.  I don't think it is normal that when you ask your almost 19 year old son to please straighten his room or clean his bathroom that he gets mad and out of control to the point that he grabs his insulin pen like a weapon and threatens to use it to kill himself.  Whether it's just a ploy on his part to gain sympathy from me or just get me to leave him alone and let him live in his disgusting room the way it is, I don't know.  What I do know is that I just can't ignore it.  It gets very tiresome constantly trying to get him to understand that if he continues to need me to do things for him like taking him back and forth to work that when I ask a few things of him around the house that I'm not asking the moon of him.  It's simple, he is now a young adult and I won't mind doing for him if he shows a little appreciation by helping with a few things around here, right?  It's alot more involved than the little bit I've mentioned here but to explain it all would take way too long.  The short version is that his behavior is getting out of hand sometimes and I personally don't feel that I should have to put up with this from him.  BUT...if there is an underlying reason for it all other than just rebellion then I'm trying to get to the bottom of it all so we can get him the help that he needs.  It would help though if the counselor would call me back.

If it wouldn't be for all of this extracurricular activity going on then I think I would actually be content with my life as it is.  I've made quite a bit of progress in the front yard.  There is still plenty left to do but from a distance it doesn't look half as bad as what it did before.  Living outside day after day and getting all of that exercise is good for both my mind and body.  It's not the most exciting lifestyle but it works for me.  I've told Corey that I have now been to hell and back trying to get over losing his Dad and have clawed and scratched my way out of that 'black hole' so many times until I finally made it out and that I WILL NOT let him knock me back into it again.  I have tried from every angle I can think of to work with him to get him to comprehend that all I am doing is for his best welfare and so that one day he will be able to go out into the world and be able to deal with it in the most positive way possible.  He just gets so hostile when I ask anything more of him though than what he is willing to do.  I am at a loss here.  I can't understand any of it.  I raised 5 boys before him and have gone through many of the same things with them that I'm going through now but never being this difficult to the point where I can't stand it anymore.  I'm wondering if it's the fact that Dean is not standing with me through this one?  I'm beginning to think that I'm the one who should be in counseling instead of him before I completely lose my mind.

I'm just venting here.  I never hear of anyone else going through this with their kids so I'm not sure where the problem lies, with him or with me.  I'm about ready to just disappear from this whole situation though - it seems to be my only escape.  I can't believe that I made it through the loss and death of my beloved husband and am still standing to tell about it and yet I feel like I am being bulldozed by an 18 1/2 year old.  This is just more than I can handle.