So many of you have been asking “What happened with New Jersey?” or “How are you doing?” and I just haven’t been able to answer. So I’m sorry for that. And now that I’ve been in SoCal for a month, I’m just starting to be able to respond....
I discovered the limit of my resiliency. I tend to be the bounce back kid, I like to think of myself as the warrior Phoenix. But I discovered at what point I can be flattened. Just too many losses in too short a time. And I did not realize how devastating letting go of my store and then my house would be - especially on top of everything else. In the space of a year and a half, everything I had built my life to be was gone. And with it, my hopes and dreams. It’s easy to say “I am not my things” until you lose them all. For those who don’t know, I had to close my store because business was BAD - I was down 50% from my first year. I kept trying to hang on, but finally I had to face reality and let it go. I already had my house on the market - I had a TON of debt I needed to take care of. So along came an opportunity for love and change and new, and I decided to go for it. I’m glad I did. It gave me something hopeful to look forward to, new hopes and dreams, as I dismantled my life.
And then I got to New Jersey. It all hit me, and all I could do was cry. Here I was in a foreign land. And nothing about it worked for me. Everything was unfamiliar. I went from a place of nature and peace to living in a small apartment where there was constant noise. It grated my already frayed nerves. I lived with someone who just couldn’t understand the magnitude of what I had been through. Truthfully, very few people can. It seems like there’s a handful of people who have known me for a very long time and were there every step of the way - from when Jim got sick to me selling almost everything I had, that really, really get it. And I was more scared than I’ve ever been in my life - I didn’t know where anything was, I didn’t know any people. When I did get out and put my hand out, nobody seemed interested in getting to know me. It all was overwhelming. I became very isolated and almost agoraphobic. And then to top it off, there was the weather.... I’ve been through winter, real winter, but that was in Moab. Huge difference. Cold and snow in city, well almost city, just sucked. I got progressively more lonely and depressed. My energy was gone. And I just became unable to do anything.
The good thing in all of it, was that I got in touch with the basics. What are my basic needs. I realized I need peace, I need routine, I need some nature, and most of all, I needed somewhere safe. I am blessed to have the most wonderful mother on the planet, so I’ve moved home with Mom in Thousand Oaks. I have so much grief, some days it doesn’t seem like I can breathe. I cry al lot. But I’m starting to take the actions to heal. Itty bitty little baby steps. I have my morning routine where I write in my journal. I’ve found a support system just one mile from Mom’s. So every day, I walk there - it’s a twofer, I get exercise and spiritual nourishment. People here have reached out to me and I’m starting to feel a little at home. The weather has been a blessing. I’m sorry California has a drought, but on a selfish level, I really, really needed the warm sunshine. I’ve found a couple of grief support groups. I’ve started going to church with Mom. I’ve never been religious (except for that stint in junior high) and luckily her church - the United Church of Christ, is very liberal and open. But something there is speaking to a part of my soul, so I go. Plus, it’s nice to share that with Mom. On Sunday after church, we go to my brother’s house where I get to visit Nala. She lives with them, because I think it’s the best place for her - I can tell it’s home for her now. But she’s always overjoyed to see me and Mom and I take her for a walk. And then we hang out with the family, it’s nice. I’ve started back to the gym. So, I’m just doing the baby steps to take care of myself emotionally, spiritually, physically and mentally. I get tired easily - grief triggers the same physical reactions as physical pain. Little by little I try to tackle things. I still need to get a car and then I can go to a therapist. Along with losing people and things, I’ve lost parts of me. I’ve run into a huge wall on my creativity. Jim and I were creative partners for so long, that I can’t do it right now without him. It’s like my arms were amputated, and I have to learn to paint with my mouth. So I need some therapy to help me.
So you ask “How I am”. It varies in any given moment. Sometimes I have so much despair that I just wish God would let me die in my sleep. Don’t worry, I’m not suicidal. After the pain I’ve had since Jim died, I don’t want anyone who loves me to go through the pain of losing me one minute before they have to. And I am so lucky to have so many people I know love me deeply. Sometimes I think of the future - I’m not exactly sure where I’m going, but either psychology or theology or some combination of the two. I want to take this experience and use it to help others through loss. Because, let’s face it, we’re all going to have loss. And knowing I can use this experience to help others is what gives me hope. But for right now, I’m just doing the little things in front of me to heal. And I’m grateful to have a Mom who let’s me be where I am, is there with love and patience and understanding; who knows I’ll heal at my own pace, and is providing me a refuge to heal.
