Nothing even happened yet.
This has been me for a few weeks now. MHN has more pain and he has been saying that he's heading to his end. I deny it and fluff over it because I am not sure what else to do. I want to scream and "make" him get rid of the disease. I don't accept that his pain is something that he can't handle and every groan makes me angry. The click of his cane makes me silently moan. He can't be dying. No!!!
The golden years? All the work, blood, sweat and tears to get to a place of relative comfort. All the plans of where we would go and what we would do...they were all for nothing.
My therapist retired and I can not bear the thought of starting all over again with a new one. 68 years of shit. There is no way I have the energy to hash through all that again. So, I do the best I can while at the same time, I am upsetting the very person I care most about. When he asks for a back massage, I sometimes say "no". What is wrong with me?
Coupled with all of this, we approach November. My sister passed 11 years ago on November 21st and my daughter's father passed a year ago on the 12th. Both of these events still are with me. I remember each event leading to the actual deaths and the aftermath. Seeing the heartbreak in my parents eyes and hearing the wails of my daughter.
I worry about the election and what will happen to this country if the worst thing happens that could happen. (45 becomes 46). What if social security goes away? What will happen to all the seniors? What will happen to ME?
November was always the best month for me. Thanksgiving, Christmas and the new year approaching; new ideas, new plans. Fires in the fireplace. Family around the table. Now, November is an open wound in my gut with raggedy edges, bloody and deeply painful.
I am so scared.
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