Tuesday, February 25, 2014

The highs and lows...

It has been a little over a month since my sister passed. It has sucked balls, there is no way to sugar coat it. There have been days where I just wanted to stay in bed, not eat and disappear. There have also been days where I felt a little joy and laughed. The days are extreme. People tell me it gets better with time. What exactly gets better? Will I start to forget her? Will I not remember us growing up and listening to records and dancing? I find myself searching for ways to feel closer to her. I put pink highlights in my hair. I try to do something that she would be proud of me for doing, like actually wearing shorts while I train (no small feat when you realize my absolute fear of shorts in general). Then I worry that I  am going crazy. Am I living my life the way I want to or the way she would? I promised myself that I  was going to start getting out of my comfort zone, yet I find it hard to leave it. I keep hoping I will see her or smell her, yet nothing happens. So many people say she is with me, surrounding me yet how the fuck do they know? With all the things I have done to be closer to her, I realize one thing; I just want her back, and no amount of hair color, pink t-shirts or hello kitty is going to make that happen.....

An open letter to my MIL....

Let me first say this: you truly do not know me. You do not know anything about me, except for the delusional thoughts you came up with in your head. You shake your head in disbelief wondering why I have no respect for you. Let me count the ways, and show you the light. I used to like you. I used to feel sorry for you and the situation you were in: an alcoholic husband who verbally abused you and had too many personalities to count. You raised two sons, one of which I married. That son I married stood up for you countless times, and at one point slept with a gun by his bed in order to protect himself and you. That son grew up to be a warm, wonderful caring human being, in spite of his environment. That son met me many years ago and brought out the best in me. That son supported me emotionally, spiritually and financially. That son encouraged me to go to school, to believe in myself and to never question my abilities. That son helped you more than you care to admit or remember. You seem to forget the many times you questioned his decision to become vegan, to how much he dedicates himself to training or how awesome he is at his profession. What you do seem to notice is that his wife isn't the conventional wife your other son married. Your sons wife has a brain, opinions and strength that you seem to be lacking. Your sons wife encourages her husband to try new things. She supports him through the thick and the thin. She does not take advantage of him. She contributes to this family. She continued searching for the career the would bring her joy, and upon finding it, has had it pointed out, by you, that it's not a real job, although my many clients would beg to differ with you. My bills getting paid would disagree with your thought. You claim I make things "harder". Interesting, especially when it's used to describe my grief of losing my sister. I used to worry about you. Not anymore. You are on your own. You have created a miserable existence, one that you are more than welcome to enjoy alone. I for one am moving forward, concerning myself with things that matter to me: my husband, our dogs and our future. You can continue to bury your head in the sand, feeling sorry for yourself and creating little fantasies in your head, I have no time for that....