November 21st, 2006 by Atomictumor
You know whats really bothering me right now?
That brain novocaine that is keeping the real pain of all this away, is blocking any of my feelings for BJ.
I don’t remember how much I love her.
That really sucks.
This still isn’t real, to whatever part of my head is trying so hard to protect itself. Or that I
I’d like to go ahead and get the whole thing over with, like pulling off a bandaid, real quick like. Its what I do with scabs, that used to piss BJ right off. Instead of the slow painful and irritating process of waiting for it to fall off naturally, I just pull it off when it starts detaching, throw some cream on it, and go about my day.
November 21st, 2006 at 8:02 pm
Sounds like a plan, man. I’d take a raincheck on the computer games if you’re tired of being numb. If anything’s numbing, those are. But that’s just me. I pull scabs off too. And it’ll catch up with you sooner or later. Too bad things like that can’t be scheduled… Liked your picture of you in the woods. Perhaps try making some art? I’m no artist, but when I’m drawing with crayons or painting something with kiddie watercolors (non-judgementally, mind you), I tend to feel clearer. Just a thought.
November 21st, 2006 at 8:02 pm
The numbness is there for a reason. Let it be. You will never forget how much you love her ever!!! I say you do what you want with the diamond thing. Let every body else bug off. flameslgs
November 21st, 2006 at 8:06 pm
Left you a comment on the other thread too (different topic). Here I’ll just say that you may not be remembering it right this second with the brain novocaine, but it’s in there. For proof you need go no further than all of us coming back here to read and post and talk about things that are none of our business.
November 21st, 2006 at 8:25 pm
I had a numb feeling when my daugher was slipping over lifes edge. If you looked at me, you could not tell. I went to work, I talked matter of factly about it — I did cry - not in front of anyone and I snuck away to just look at the sky or wander. Hell I got a 4.0 that semester in grad school and most did not know what was going on. I beat the hell out of myself because I just didn’t feel — I just did not do what you see people do when when really nasty stuff happened. I was on auto piolet and I sure as hell did not want to be around people because of the questions they would ask — the questions. I would come home from the hospital and my wife and I would look at the blinking answering machine — we would listen to the messages. I can not attest to what she was feeling, but I was pissed beyond recognition. Instead of being the comforted we became to comforter for people, family, and friends who could not get their hands around our child’s pending death?!?! Advice, advice, advice, . . . everyone had advice that spouted out like a fountain of unending knowledge and wives tales. At the end of the day — WE went to bed, WE cried, and WE stared at the walls and wondered what it would be like to bury our first born full of tubes and god knows what. It still goes on today. “maybe that brain thingy is why she is so delayed” . . . says mom or dad. “You know johnny didn’t talk till he was three . . .” says sister or brother. “Oh, you are making much to much of this . . .” states absent relative we have not spoken to in 3 years. The way I see it, if life punches you in the head, you are going to feel numb. It wasn’t till six months after the fact that I looked face down in the toilet, gripping my stomach, and said holy shit that hurts. This isn’t shakespere and I can’t spell. I made a pact with myself during that six months — I just simply put people on notice that I have one motivation and one objective and that is to do everything within my sleep deprived self to be the best damn advocate for my kid. Some people got hurt and others left. The good ones stuck around and they surprised me.
Please don’t take this as advice or a well worn platitude –
November 21st, 2006 at 8:30 pm
Timsan1, Shakespeare could not have said that any better.
November 21st, 2006 at 8:40 pm
yes, what Timsan1 said — i can add nothing to what he said. i have been there - i so agree.
November 21st, 2006 at 9:02 pm
Wow, very well said, Timsan1. I too have a delayed child (son) and I’ve learned to trust my own instincts and beliefs. Only YOU can know what is right. People mean well, but they will never know what the answer is.
November 21st, 2006 at 9:06 pm
Yes. People mean well. Understand that.
November 21st, 2006 at 9:09 pm
I think it’s perfectly understandable that you’re feeling numb. You’re in limbo right now - BJ is gone, but you haven’t said goodbye. You’re having to be strong for your boys and for BJ’s parents, and you’re busy convincing your friends and family that you’re sane. You’re being pulled in a lot of directions, and you haven’t had the resolution that comes with a sendoff.
Maybe you’re suspending your grief (and your feelings for BJ) so that you can prove to yourself that you can cope with life without her. Once you’ve given BJ her sendoff, and spent a couple of weeks working and dropping the kids off at school, you might feel secure enough to access what’s going on under the surface.
I completely understand your impatience, though. I hope closure brings you what you need.
November 22nd, 2006 at 7:48 am
“This isn’t shakespere and I can’t spell.”
Timsan1, you always crack me up. I’m glad you’re here at the tumor.
November 22nd, 2006 at 1:36 pm
K, this is a poem that my, at the time, 10 yr old daughter wrote for her grandfather’s receiving of friends. AT said I could post it, decided this was as good a place as any. Even though the pronouns are masculine, they obviously apply to both.
‘Someone Told My Heart’
Someone told my heart he is gone
My heart said they were wrong
Someone told my heart i couldnt see him again
My heart said they were wrong
Someone told my heart this is the day to say goodbye
My heart said they were wrong
Then my heart said he is here
I see him all the time
I never have to say goodbye
My heart is stronger than this day