me · ramblings

Challenges of the unknown

I’m a control freak. I’ll admit it this once. I like to have things in order. I’m always prepared. I think out every scenario I can hash up in my brain. I always want to be ready. I know that’s not always the case, but damn it  I try to make that my case. That being said, I’m also pretty laid back. I love the quietness of the outdoors. I lose myself in the sounds of my backyard. It’s calming. At times, I run into conflicts of my own personality. And going into this week, it’s the challenge of the unknown which makes me have inner turmoil of my control freak. Three years ago this Friday, we lost my husband’s brother. Normally I wouldn’t publicly talk about this topic. However, cleaning out the closet is really necessary. As my hope always is, maybe someone reading this can relate and find solace.

Lossing a loved one is always a shock. It is always horrible. However, losing a love one unexpected, especially at a young age is life stopping. I have never before had that moment of loss that stops the world. All sound is gone. There is no motion. My family is riddle with cancer. So 9 times outta 10, you know what’s coming for you. Being on the other side of that fence was unnerving. I didn’t know what to say or do. I wasn’t prepared. I never thought I would have to tell my husband I got that call.  To be honest, I was terrified to tell my husband that. We were just at the being stages of getting help for his bipolar disorder. I didn’t know what to expect. Walking through the whole situation was a nightmare. His lose was a shell shock. He was only 16. So young, vibrant, boisterous, fun-loving. Quick with a hug and a smile that brightened any room. My husband, of course, was in denial. It was not a pretty picture.

Going into this week, it is always hard for my husband. And for the longest time I was convinced it was because of the loss of his brother was just too much for him to bear. I’ve always been comforting of his loss. Today I realized my view is completely distorted. He does mourn his brother and all the “what could’ve beens’. However, what he mourns more is the loss a childhood to all three of the children in his family. He’s grappling with the excessive baggage that addictive parents give a child.  There are many unanswered questions, many hurt feelings and lost time to be a child. I am not here to bash anyone. I am only here to express the views in my situation here today in the belief that another person in this situation will seek help to come to terms with what has happened to them. I can’t control this. I can’t run scenarios through my mind. I can’t make it better for him. There is nothing I can do but sit in the side lines and cheer him on. Watching his family can be a scary train wreck at times. And I hate to say that. I really do. But I can’t ignore it either.  My husband seems so haunted. There is a dark side to himself that brews inside the depth of his brain recalling every childhood horror.

I have to rethink my approach to him this year. I never though this scenario out in my mind. I didn’t stop to think the loss of his brother, triggered the loss himself. What do you say in a moment like this? Nothing. I’m hoping love is enough to give him the strength to struggle through this week. I’m hoping he will understand that he needs to check those bags on an Amtrak and let them take the one way trip without him. The baggage will only way you down. It will make your trip here much more strenuous than it needs to be. I learned a long time ago that I wouldn’t carry somebody else’s baggage that they placed on me. And in time, I know he can do it too.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s