Friday, March 25, 2011

Dark and lonely

This is a dark and lonely place to be. This is not going to be a cheery post. So... if that bothers you. Stop reading.

THIS is my life. This roller coaster of emotions that comes with having a terminally ill child trying to stay upbeat for the sake of my child, my family and for everyone else around me is exhausting. IF... someone asks me how I am I usually answer 'fine' as to not have to burden them with any depressing issues and appease their conscience to ask how I am in passing as if it's a duty, a small duty to ask and then be off the hook. As you can tell this journey is making me more bitter toward people. People can talk the talk, but RARELY do they walk the walk. This is mainly coming from the fact that I have seen more kindness and love in absolute strangers than I have in friends and aquaintances. Now... you think... oh no... that's going to piss someone off, but in actuality, I don't think I could be ignored and forgotten about more than I feel at present. I'm just being honest with what I feel and what I've seen. I am utterly grateful for the kindness of the few friends that I have and the kindness that strangers have shown to Oliver and our family. This post is in regards to the feeling that nags on a daily basis of why I feel so alone.

I admit I have withdrawn from others because you don't want to be a burden in everyone else's happy day. I don't want to suddenly go off on someone that is going on about how rough their day has been when I'm struggling with the fact that my kid is dying. I don't want to be around people that are talking about death and dying not realizing what it is causing me to feel always having that on my mind. Also, I don't want to talk with people that really don't care. I'm not going to confide in someone who wants to look like they are there for me around other people and then are no where in sight when I need them. I'm always wondering what people will think of me and scared that people will think less of me if I honestly share this side of this journey... the dark and lonely side that accompanies what we are going through. I don't want to be the weak one that has lost their positive outlook and hope but it is what it is. I guess the time has come where I just don't care. This is MY journal. People will think what they want to think and judge me based on what they THINK they know. This is for me and hopefully to help others that are going through something similar to know they they aren't alone in feeling lonely and forgotten about. For me, it's even more difficult with the dreaded mental illness to go with it, feeling emotions 100 times stronger than 'normal'. That's another post for another day.

I'm so sick of giving people the benefit of the doubt... "They just don't know what to say", "people don't know how to handle grief". Well... guess what... if my grief is difficult for you... guess how I freakin' feel when you don't even acknowledge my existence anymore!!!!! *insert frustrated scream* I'm to the breaking point. No one wants to talk about it, like it's not happening. If I don't look, maybe it will just go away. Serving others and loving others is drilled into our fibers every Sunday at church. Hmmmm... maybe I'm not the right type of person to deserve that love from my fellow church going crowd. I'm not a squeaky enough wheel? I'm not in a certain cliche? Who knows... I've been struggling with people. I've been struggling with God. I've been struggling... period. I just don't get this life. 'The gospel is perfect... the people aren't". If I hear that quote one more time I might just vomit a little. So... that is the answer for everything. I don't know. I want to believe in 'the plan'. I want to believe in the good of humanity. I REALLY WANT TO. I hate feeling this way. I hate being so lonely and feel like people just don't care. I'm usually a more outgoing person, but this is making me more of a hermit. Not wanting to put myself out there to be hurt, because I am hurting so much right now.

Life changed the day Ollie was diagnosed. I've been grieving ever since. I've been dealing with the thoughts of wanting to get in a car accident and other harmful things because if he dies... I don't want to live. I don't want to live with the pain of not having him hear. It's already almost too much to bear having the knowledge of his diagnosis and if it were to ever come to fruition I honestly don't know how I can live every day. This is my reality. I KNOW that I have a husband and other children to live for. But... that's really about it. I'm not the same person I was before he was diagnosed. I hope that someday I can get some of me back, but I will NEVER, EVER be the same. This year has taught me a lot. It has opened my eyes to how people are. The good and the bad. I honestly feel some days that people act like he's already dead. Out of sight, out of mind?! Who knows... but, that's how I feel. If he does pass I really don't care to see people at his funeral acting like they care when they weren't around during THIS difficult time. It makes me angry and so hurt. I just shake my head. You try to be a good friend when you can and then expect the same in return when life gets hard for you and when things aren't reciprocated... well... it hurts, it makes you angry, it's confusing. This is where I am right now. Not a happy place to be. I am learning to be an island. Well... an island with my husband and little children islands... although sometimes I need more. But... sometimes you can't get what you want no matter how much you want it.


Hone Family as in Ryan and Ashley said...

I know the feeling of just wanting to be alone. You feel as though nobody understands what you are going through, and most people don't. They are ignorant to what you are going through. I'm so sorry you have to deal with what is going on in your life. It's not easy. Scream if you need to scream. Grieve. Be angry. It's okay. I am always thinking of you and sweet little Oliver. I only wish you lived in Utah so you could come to our awesome support group. Hang in there.

MindiTheMagnificent said...

Oh Stacy. I hear you loud and clear. I am in the same boat. Just cannot seem to allow myself to be part of the outside world. Watching everyone go about their "business as usual". You are far from alone in these emotions. I've become quite the hermit, myself. Which is sooooooo not my "before cancer" M.O. Every time I do go out, I cannot help myself from blurting out what's been going on in our lives for the last two years. I often feel like I must have The Plague and if anyone speaks to me they are in fear of catching it.
I'm right with you. Loving you, my dear. Holding you close.

Meggan Hayes said...

I know we don't really know each other but my heart aches for you. I have those same feelings, of not wanting to see anyone and just stay home and hug my children. I will pray for you.

Anonymous said...

I don't pretend to know the feelings you are dealing with. I have followed your blog since it was created. I have learned from you to love unconditionally. I have two children. They are not sick, or dying but I have learned from you to let the little things go and approach each day like it was my last. Staci thank you for expressing your feelings here, your devotions, and most of all your heart. I think of your family often. I pray for your strength, and pray for a miracle for Ollie.


Amy said...

I don't know you. I found your blog from a link on Sadie Huish's blog. I will be praying for you and your sweet family ((hugs)).

Miss ~E said...

your feelings are real and valid. Your writing gave me chills. I don't have a parallel adversity, I don't think anything compares to the loss of a child, but I do know what it is like to get smacked in the face with the reality of who really cares and who really doesn't. It hurts, sometimes so bad that you feel like you are going to go mad. I have changed permanently through my own adversity and have lost more friends than I've made, but I have to hold on to the fact that I am better off, I have to have faith and sometimes I cry to my savior begging for him to take the burden, and I realize he has, many years ago he felt my same pains. Thats what get's me through.
I pity those people that are superficial, I pity them because they have no idea how they are wasting their time on the superficial things in life, because at some point these experiences that you and I have been through, yours being the worst, have taught us a deeper meaning of life. Your post gave me strength, knowing I am not alone sometimes when I feel like an island. You are not alone either, I grieve for you and your precious family. I think of you everyday, my children who have never met you ask about Ollie every other day. know that our prayers are with you. ~E

eureka1951 said...

This post breaks my heart Stacy. I wish I knew you! I would be there for you! I have a dear friend who is going thru the worst time of her life as well. And it's with her son as well. It's been tough but I'm always there for her cuz I love her like a sister and I know how much she needs our support even tho we don't have a clue how she feels. I pray you have at least one good friend who is there for you? No one can understand your pain but we can listen, pray and love you. Good for you on getting this all out! You ARE a strong woman Stacy even tho you don't feel you are!!! God bless you!

Anonymous said...

I've been reading your blog for quite some time. I'm amazed at your strength and love for our Savior and family. Between you, the Huish family and the Adams family I have grown. It's your time to vent, to doubt, to wonder, and to be angry. Sure wish those of use who have empathetic hearts could reach through and give you a hug. Don't worry about "mental illness" we're all mentally ill in one way or another, I mean, look at those who are superficial, isn't that mental illness. Hurray for you to be able to admit and articulate your feelings. So what if you have to take a pill or somthing, it's no big deal when accepted and controlled. Your little family is beautiful, you are beautiful and you know that you're in my prayers and thoughts. Ollie - what a champ!

Rachael M said...

I wish I were there to grieve with you, and to help you in ANY way you need. I can't say I know exactly how you feel, because my son's death was sudden and he didn't have cancer. But I do know from my own experience that grief is excruciatingly painful and isolating. I know what it feels like to not want to live without your child, and to have the added struggle with mental illness. And I certainly understand the anger. Of course you are angry! Even though I've never met him, I love your Oliver and pray for health and strength for your whole family in this unbelievably difficult experience.