The Crucible

I haven't posted in such a long time.  I haven't posted because....I can't.  I didn't realize it had been over thirteen months.  How did that happen?  And yet I look over everything that has transpired since then & the thought of confronting it all makes me shudder.  I find my title choice ironic at best, as the crucible has always seemed to me to be something upon which you look back & reflect how it has formed you.  I don't feel formed.  I feel....crushed so much of the time.  I fear this entry will become yet another that I'll feel the need to move from my blog to my online private diary (shocker, that's been even longer) but I don't think that will be as productive & cathartic as I desperately need for this to be.

This year seems to be my own personal hell, except so much of it has been shared by my family.  There are many....losses which I could never share in such a public forum.  There are probably even more that if I were to outline them, they would seem to be, at best, minimal challenges.  Well sorry y'all, I've been quiet long enough & no one's forcing you to listen now either.  I don't mean to imply that I lack people who would willingly listen.  There have been many more than one late night crying session, or just people being with me so I wasn't alone.  The problem is me.  I don't know how to let go in those opportunities most of the time, leaving me in situations like this reaching out to no one in particular, just desperate to finally get it all out.

I can't argue that so many of the things that have happened this year, individually, shouldn't seem so big.  But for me, this year feels like I'm the most pathetic little sand castle, getting a metaphorical gasp of air before another wave comes crashing down again.  Maybe the reason I find this so hard is that I feel like I have to justify how I feel.  It shouldn't hurt this much or this long or any number of combinations of reasons I should just "get over 'it' ".  I lost my sister this year.  No goodbye, nothing resembling fair warning, nothing.  Some might call that a personal choice, but as devastating as this loss has been, the idea of a half-loss, clinging to what used to be as much as possible.....I couldn't fathom being torn even further apart.  I did what I had to do, as did my family.

I still miss her, so much.  Tragically few people have any idea just how much.  And yet for me, there is nothing else to be done.  As I said, I can't be torn in so many directions.  But I've never taken family lightly & to lose someone I considered to be my sister in every way, shape, & form, I don't know how to move on from that.  Not when I still see her at the grocery store or hear little tidbits about how she's doing.  I want the best for her, more than anything.  But I also want to stop hurting for her.  And I don't know how.

This year has been one of mixed blessings.  My father, or my daddy as I more accurately think of him in moments like this, had a heart attack on my brother's 23rd birthday & later in the year paid reluctant visits to the ER & the hospital for surgeries & such five times in six weeks, almost all unplanned.  I vacillate between intense gratitude that he is still here, that he went to the ER instead of taking a permanent nap when he felt 'off', & anger & fear that his continued physical presence in my life was (is) ever in question at all.  My brother has been deeply blessed to find someone who adores him & comes with a fantastic loving son upon whom we all dote shamelessly.  My brother & sister-in-law also welcomed their third perfectly healthy beautiful baby girl this year, less than two months after he was finally legally proclaimed the father of their two older daughters.

Don't get me wrong.  I know how blessed I am, how blessed we are.  My car was stolen, within it items of irreplaceable value.  & then suddenly the call, "I'm standing next to your car & your stuff is all still here".  I know this divorce could have broken my brother, instead of giving him this wonderful opportunity for new love & a new family.  I know my dad could have given up any number of times, decided he was sick of this medical crap & just not gone to the doctor.  I know the doctors could have let him go home without detecting his heart attack, or not checked all the different little things that lead to him being here with us now.   I do know.  I promise.

I wish I knew a way to just feel, not rationalize, justify, apologize, just FEEL.  I am trying, contrary to semi-popular belief.  I really am.  I know which people have fought admirably to pull me through this mess.  Please don't stop.  I'll get there.  Tonight I just.....needed to cry.  & maybe that's not such a bad thing.