“As a single mother, breaking down is one of the hardest things because there's no one to help pick you back up again”
I read this in an article and it could be more true or applicable to my own life. I have sometimes said that I have been a single parent since Scott was originally diagnosed with brain cancer. He was in the hospital for a month and a half. All of us had to make adjustments to our lives and schedules. When he came home, he could help somewhat with parenting, but not to the extent he was able to before his surgery. His disability meant that we took care of him and helped to provide for his needs. There was a point when he became more mobile and was able to help out in small ways, but ultimately, I was the chauffeur, the caretaker, the errand runner, the cook, the cleaner, the organizer, etc. The one thing, though, that I didn’t experience while Scott was alive, at least for the most part, was the unending loneliness and dealing with breakdowns alone. For the most part, once Scott was home, I could breakdown and he would let me cry on his chest. Often, he would cry with me, knowing that the source of my pain and sorrow was due to the circumstances surrounding him. I had moments, though, where I would wait until he was sleeping, or I was alone, such as in the car, to breakdown. To cry out my pain. Sometimes, I preferred it that way. Others would only see me as strong and able to endure the hand we had been dealt. However, now that Scott is no longer alive, I hate it. Every time I am sad and I become overwhelmed with emotion, I have to turn myself around. I have to convince myself that everything will be okay.
As our 4th anniversary approaches, four months after he passed away, I find myself losing control. For the last three months, I've kept it all in check. My grief only manifested in brief, sporadic spurts. Manageable, it was. However, last week, Tristan was texting me (I gave him Scott’s phone). He messaged me: I miss daddy. The text was preceded by a string of sad, crying emoticons and a few angry emoticons. My baby is hurting. He only brings it up every now and then. But it definitely tugs at my heartstrings. Wednesday, last week, I noticed that Melayna was very clingy with a male friend. She loves this man. He later told me that she said to him that she wished he could be her daddy. She apparently said the same thing to another male friend. She wants my dad, her grandpa, to carry her; she's very cuddly with him. She’s craving attention from male figures in her life to compensate for her daddy no longer being here. Again, another thing that has me in this constant emotional upheaval. Quick to breakdown, tears welling up in my eyes, and uncontrollable sadness. Another thing that happened recently was while I was babysitting the children Scott used to babysit. These two kids were a big part of our lives for years. I love them so much and miss having them around. Their father and I have been hanging out quite a bit lately. Scott and him were really good friends and I want to say that he is now one of my best friends. When he needed help with watching his kids this weekend, I told him, I’d be happy to. As I was tucking in one of the kids the other night, he said to me that he missed Scott. He told me that twice that night. My children aren’t the only one hurting. My heart hurts so much for all of them and I’m not sure how much my heart can handle.
Breaking down. It just keeps happening. I try to find happiness, but it eludes me. For the first time, exercise wasn’t the drug I needed it to be. I cried on my drive home from Zumba last night. Today, I cried while jogging on the treadmill. I cried before work. After work. During work. My emotions are spiraling out of control and I don't like it one bit. I hate it, in fact. I normally can keep myself under control. Keep my emotions in check. I was able to talk about Scott and his passing without breaking down. Now, not so much.
I know that eventually I will be okay. I know that tomorrow is another day. But for now, I am sad. For now, I feel hopeless and helpless. For now, my breaking point has been reached and I am going to cry. And the pieces will be mine to put together. No one else can do that. And the person that could, is now no longer here.
