Saturday, June 23, 2012

It's been a long time

It's been a long time, and you can't really call it angst if it's simply part of your life, but--I've been having family issues. One of my kids is sick, and it's occupying a lot of my time, mind, and life. Funny how you figure--they grow up, you'd get over the part where they get sick since they're not small anymore. Not cute, I guess.

I recently talked to someone who said she had the impression grief had a shelf life. You'd take "this" long to get over an illness, and "that" long to get over a death. Not for the griever, but for the waiters--people waiting for whoever it is in mourning to snap out of it and come back to themselves. I suspect I'm in pre-grief. If you've read my blog over the past four years, you might know that I lost my husband, and that makes it sound like I misplaced him or something, but it's a little more elegant than saying he had a stroke. Funny how I imagined we'd have more time. Twenty-eight years is a long time, and we wasted a lot of it arguing and bickering over all the usual things--money, the kids, jobs and where we'd go on our infrequent days off together. Massanutten is on my no-go list, simply because we always meant to go and never did. And Limestone, because it wouldn't be the same without him.

My kid has been sick for a long time, but earlier this year--he got worse. I suspect I have issues. I never had a chance to say goodbye to Jack, take that trip to the Appalachians, or sit and talk about things that mattered to us. Not bills, not the kids--but us. And I'm trying to make up for it by listening to my kid, and being there when he needs me. So one day--hopefully many years in the future, I won't have regrets.

I used up a lot of time and energy recovering from Jack, finding my way as a single mother, dealing with my kid's issues and the constant, sucking emotional black hole of being unable to fix my child. Much as I loved the workshops and everything else I juggled, my schedule was brutal. I suspect--no, I know--I had a temporary breakdown and reached the end of my rope. There are only so many years you can live on three hours of sleep, a four pack of energy drinks and sheer, stubborn will. The hives and anemia were just part of a larger problem.

I shut off everything after my last workshop--and didn't talk to anyone for months. It's taken months, but I can now see exactly how much emotional load-bearing I can do on any given day. Writing is helping me to cope. I thought I'd lost it, but I suspect the pressure to perform and leftover guilt from spending the time I had left with Jack immersed in my fantasy worlds had a lot to do with it. It's not much, just some fluffy goofball erotica. I started out as a regency writer and can't seem to escape, except for my StallingCo stuff. Maybe I'll dig out and dust off my first story, I dunno. The pressure is gone and I'm just writing for myself. I always did like Danton.

Barring something horrible and unforeseen, I should be back to normal--have I ever been normal--soon. But in the meanwhile, if you could spare a kind thought or a prayer for my son, I'd really appreciate it.

13 comments:

MG Braden said...

Prayers are being said for sure, Cup. I've been gone a long time, for different reasons, but gone all the same. I know you've had a difficult time over the last years, but you've always struck me as an amazingly strong woman. That may come from necessity, but it's true. Please know that you are loved for who you are and that you are missed when you are not around. Lots of love and prayers are headed your way. Take care,

Jodi Henley said...

If not for the support of my friends--and you are definitely one of then, MG--I think I would have gone insane a long time ago. And that's not just me talking bullshit. I think about you sometimes and hope you're well. Thanks for being there (((hugs)))

Winnie S. said...

I will gladly spare many thoughts and many prayers for your son.

I took two workshops with you many moons ago at savvy authors. ( I was GayleG.) I thought you were absolutely wonderful. Fantastic teacher. You taught me so much in so short of time.

I will send thoughts, prayers, vibes anything I can your way, and I hope the healing and the hope can be there for you.

Warmest Regards.

Winnie S.

Jennifer Leeland said...

I've always sent good thoughts your way, knowing the process of grief is difficult and on-going. I find, whenever I face loss, that it comes back and bites me in the ass at weird times.
I can only say this, my friend. Everyone deals with this stuff differently and there's no "right" way and no "time table" to get through it. And there sure as hell is no "normal".
Hang in there and know that some of us will be right here no matter what.

Jennifer Leeland said...

IS on-going. Opps.

deanna said...

You've been in my prayers, and you and your son will be, Jodi, until my brain gets so linty I forget to pray. :o) I'm glad writing is still with you.

Jodi Henley said...

Winnie--thank you. :) I'm glad I could help (and I don't mean that in the condescending kind of way you get with some people). I'm always so amazed when people listen to my stuff it makes me humble and thankful.

I will take anything you're willing to give, I have very little pride. Thank you

(((hugs)))

Jodi Henley said...

lol--you "writer" you...

(((hugs)))

Thank you, Superwoman. I'm glad to have you in my life. :)

Jodi Henley said...

I'm a strong believer in the power of prayer. Thank you, Deanna. :) And you made me laugh with your linty metaphor, lol. I'm writing and writing, and everything else is coming back too. It scares me in a way...whether it's coming back fully to life after Jack's death will make everything worse later on, or it's just God's way of saying, "have faith. There are clinical trials and new cures all the time."

...and now, I've got to wash my glasses.

Thanks for being here, Deanna. (((hugs)))

Trish said...

I've lurked here for a while (damn, dirty lurker) after a recommendation on Savvy Authors. You always have some nugget of help for newbies like me. Thank you for always remembering what it's like to take this path.

I'm sending you Texas-sized prayers and a healthy dose of Great Dane hugs (I have two). You're a gem.

Ray Wilkins Professional Artist said...

my thoughts and prayers are with you too jodi! and even though we still have some contract issues with each other for me you are still an angel of words and the best editor i know....

Jodi Henley said...

(((hugs))) thank you, Trish. :)

Jodi Henley said...

Ray, you are a blessing in my life. Thank you. I saw your email and I'll respond later tonight. :)