I Believe in Spirit

So many emotions... I have no idea where to begin. I'm really not sure how to convey clearly the depth of what I felt today. I guess I'll just start writing and hopefully it will flow.

Within the past couple of years, I have lost three dear friends, all before what I felt was their "time." This experience is mainly about two of those friends.

Keith left some unanswered questions with his passing. As far as I knew he wasn't sick, and seemed to be "fine" whenever we spoke.

Tom had a heart attack in his car and passed before impact. He had had a quad-bipass a few years before, and would joke with me about how him and I had "cheated death."

Shawn passed two weeks after finding out that he had cancer. Barely enough time for good byes.

Now these guys didn't know eachother. In fact, their only common factors were me, and the Navy. But they touched me in one way or another and have left lasting impressions.

Now I am not deeply religious, but I do believe in a Higher Power and in Spirit. I know there is something big that guides me in directions when I feel lost. Something guided me to Jon when I needed him the most, and he needed me. We know that we could have met sooner, because we had several common friends over the years... but we never met until the moment was just right for both of us. Something bigger than us guided us in that direction.

I have always felt it.

So back to my friends. Every time I think of any one of the three of them, the other two automatically come to mind. Although they didn't know eachother in life, I can't  help but believe that they are upstairs, watching over their loved ones, guiding us... and enjoying a beer together once in a while.

Now all three of them had family and friends that they were closer to than they were to me, so I don't for a second flatter myself into thinking that any of them spend their time keeping an eye just on me... but I do believe they visit.

Today, especially.

I didn't realize two things when I woke up this morning. When I figured it out, I rode on an emotional roller coaster that I can't  describe. I choked up when I tried to tell Jon... and then I cried all the way to work, while talking to "My guys" and thanking one in particular for this gift that I'm about to tell you about.

So this morning, like most mornings, I had the tv on, snuggled up next to Jon, coffee in one hand, scrolling through Facebook.... I came across Tom's wife's post. She said she was visiting him today, a year later.

Had it been a year? It seems like we just lost him.

I look at my calendar, and sure enough.... it had been a whole year.

I paused to think about the grandson that he has never met. I thought about how his wife is coping with his loss. I reflected on what a kind, caring person he was. The type that would jump to help a friend, no matter the time or the reason.

He is truely missed.

And, of course, because I was thinking of Tom, my other two guys also came into my forethought.

As I wondered how Keith's little girl is doing, I typed his name in my Facebook to go to his page and leave a quick note.... when I got there and was thinking on what to say to express my feelings for the day, I saw a Happy Birthday post. My first thought was, "I wonder how old that post is." I look at the date and it was today!!

I had no idea that Tom had passed on Keith's birthday! And as I have said, they didn't know eachother... And most people would write it all off as a random coincidence. I think the dates are... but me finding out on the 1-year anniversary of Tom's passing was a gift from Tom. It was a reminder from Tom, not of his passing, but of another friend's birthday.

I would never have even known otherwise.

Maybe it sounds crazy, but I believe that Tom's spirit knows that I have had some difficulty putting my mind right about Keith's passing. Being the kind, warm hearted person that he is, I know in my heart that he guided Belinda to make that post, leading to the chain of events, causing me to find out about Keith's birthday.

Somehow, I feel like Tom is saying that I shouldn't continue carrying the burden of "How" with Keith, and just be thankful to have known him. It was subtle, but I know somehow that it was Tom wrapping his arms around me, giving me permission to stop grieving and to know that they are all in a better place.

Maybe I'm rambling at this point. Maybe I'm not making sense, or this sounds crazy to you. Maybe it sounds like I'm reaching for just anything. Whatever it may seem like to someone else isn't important, though.

What matters is that deep down in my heart, these guys are missed by me. I believe that they visit to check up on me every now and then. And I know that today, Tom showed me that he was checking on not just me, but also Keith... and he found a way to let me know that he is doing just fine.

No. I'm Not Ok

Walking through work, people are so kind. They extend a heartfelt, "How are you doing?" Implying, how am I since I lost my dog.
My response... smile and say, "I am doing ok. Thank you for asking."
Inside my head, though, all I can do is scream,

"NO, I AM NOT OK! I AM SAD AND LOST AND LONELY AND I FEEL ABANDONED!!"

But nobody wants to hear that...

I alternate between missing him and being angry that he left me. Then, I feel bad for being mad at him, because I know he never would leave me on purpose...

My emotions are out of control. I feel like I will never be happy again. I am ok one second, then angry the next, then crying after that! By the time I go through all of these emotions, people don't want to be anywhere near me.... and I can't blame them. I don't want to be near myself!!

I just want to be able to come to terms with this loss, and look at all the great memories I have that everyone keeps reminding me of. But I'm trapped.

I don't know how long it will take, and I wish people understood that... instead of just expecting me to be ok.

Dogs and Stress

Let's get down to brass tacks here. Truth be told, I merely tolerate most people on my very best days. Somehow, my dog has always calmed me and helped me to be at least more patient, if not friendly.

Without him, I am a jerk.

Since he passed last week, I'm finding it harder and harder to deal with life's little tasks. I had no idea how much Dee Oh Jee really did reduce my stress levels.

I am a normally high stress/worrier anyways. I stress over money, my kids, what my boyfriend thinks of me, work, cleaning the house, why friends don't call, that weird mole on my back... You name it.

I am a Libra, which means I have the capacity to think something to death, then start over and think about it again. Once a negative thought pops into my head, no matter how warranted it may or may not be, I can't unthink it. Sometimes I think I'm crazy because I can't get thoughts out of my head. It's hard to let go.

Knowing this, I try really hard to just get past it and not say a word about it to anyone. No point in starting some crazy situation over some trick my brain is playing.

Since the loss of my pet, however, I have found the negative thoughts getting louder and more frequent. I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut and am hurting people that I care about over stupid tricks that my mind is playing. I can't seem to control it.

So, you may ask... why not just get another dog? Problem solved, right?

Because I don't want another dog. My last one was irreplaceable. He understood me. We had a long history. Cancer, my divorce, depression, moving over state lines, camping & hiking, car rides....

Any other animal would be just that. Something else. Can you just replace a friend with another person? Of course not. Same with dogs.

Somehow, I am going to have to learn to deal with life on my own. I need to figure out this whole tolerance thing without his help. I haven't got a plan for that yet. Meanwhile, I may need to duct tape my mouth shut in public, and lock me in the bathroom like a bad pet while at home.

The worst part... other than this blog, I have no one to talk to. To everyone else in the world, it was "just a dog," so they think I should be ok by now. People close to me just expect me to resume life as usual. My boyfriend is tired of hearing about it. He hasn't said as much, but you know how people act.

So here I am. In my hateful little bubble with a black cloud floating over my head. Alone. Without my best friend. Heartbroken and angry....

RIP Dee Oh Jee

I had to put my beautiful dog to sleep the other night. He had cancer, and he was at the point where they couldn't save him.

I am heartbroken. I'm learning how nearly every aspect of my day at the house revolved around him. Getting out of bed to let him out in the mornings, I am careful of where I step, so I don't step on him.... and then realize he is no longer there.
Leaving for work, we close the bedroom door, move the blanket off the couch, make sure there is food and water for him, and open the door to let him outside.... all without even thinking about it.
I walk into the kitchen and glance down, expecting him to be there with his big brown eyes, floppy lopsided ears up, and an expectant look on his face.... but he isn't there.

I feel hollow, empty inside.

He was 12 years old, and was my best friend.
He listened intently and hung on my every word no matter what was happening in my life.
He let me hug him close when I had a bad day, never minding if my tears landed on his soft fur, letting me plant kisses right between his eyes.
He followed me around the house like a shadow, and nudged the bathroom door open to make sure the hair dryer never won our morning battle.
He snuggled when I didn't feel well, barked for treats when I was too slow, and played mediator when people got too noisy in the house.
He was a gentle soul who never hurt anyone. I've even seen him allow a toddler to pull on handfuls of his fur at the park, and he just looked at the child with love.
He loved hiking in the woods (peeing on everything he could get close to), and camping (because he always got food scraps).
He did not like being in water. The beach, baths, rain, or any other reason to get wet.... He just never understood the need for it!

He loved belly rubs, ear scratches, and always managed to give you a kiss for it.

He slept on a Dora the Explorer blanket, snuggled my flip flops, and sneaked onto the couch when we weren't at home.

And he loved the kids. I can't tell you how many times I have argued with the 2 year old about whose dog he really was.

Now we have to break this terrible news to the children. I don't even know where to begin...

My favorite story is how people would ask what kind of dog he was. I would look them in the eye and say, "a Miniature Retriever."
Of course, there is no such thing... but people are funny. Either you hear someone honestly confess that they had never heard of one, or suddenly they have some distant friend or relative that also has one....

But really... he was Mine. He came from Spain, and managed to push his way into my heart when I didn't want a dog, and didn't think I needed one. Turns out, I needed him more that I thought...

Someday, my heart will stop hurting, but I will always love him for what he brought into my life.... compassion, patience, and love....

I Bring it on Myself

*sigh* My mind is in turmoil.
Why can't I just accept things and be happy?
How do I look around and say, "This is enough for me"
I miss seeing a smile in the mirror.
I want joy in my life, like the fresh air.

I feel so much love for those around me,
and yet I push those people away.
I know that the sadness I feel is inside myself.

This is not something that I can blame anyone for.
Not even myself.
Who can help their feelings?

Every day that goes by,
without doing something to try to fix this sadness
Is a day wasted.

I was only given a certain number of days on this earth.
I can't stand the thought of wasting even one more.
My patience has grown thin.
I can no longer tolerate myself in this light.
It's time to change the bulb.

I don't know what to do,
or where to go,
to find the happiness that I seek.

All I know is that I have to start somewhere.
Somewhere is better than nowhere.

The sunlight awaits me
and I need room to dance.

Ton of Bricks

I just got hit by that proverbial ton of bricks. I don't even know how to put this into words, so I'm going to just start typing, trying to organize my thoughts the best that I can. I apologize in advance for any rambling, because I'm sure I will.

How can someone seemingly just drop off the face of the earth, and then, three months later, just pick up the phone and call you like nothing ever happened?

As some of you may know, a guy that I worked with tried to kill himself a few months ago. I work in a small office, with only 4-7 people employed here at any given time. In a small place like this, you get to know each other really well. Although we never hung out away from work, I still thought of him as a friend. I talked to him every single day about whatever it is that was happening in our lives. He made me mad sometimes. I'm sure I made him mad sometimes, too. In the end, though, he was still my friend.

We all knew that he had family problems, but out of respect, we didn't ask any questions. We only knew whatever information that he volunteered to us. Because of his family problems, some days he would be quieter than usual and other days were good days, where he would be chatty, and joke around about stuff. He had normal moods just like the rest of us.

On "the day that it happened," he was quiet. Unfortunately, none of us really paid much attention, because as I said, he had days like that. The next day, I came into work, and found out about the whole thing.

I was shocked. I never expected him to do something like this. I was sad that he felt that suicide was his only option. I was afraid that although he survived the attempt itself, the resulting medical issues may get him in the end. I had a lot of conflicting feelings about the whole situation; feelings that I've had months to consider, talk about, analyze, and come to terms with. In the end (or what I thought was the end), I was sad that he felt this was his only option. I was relieved that he survived. I was hopeful that he would get help.

Something else that I had to deal with, were the unanswered questions. You go from seeing someone nearly daily for two years, thinking you know them, to never seeing them again. They disappeared with no explanation, no good bye. When someone dies, you have a funeral. The funeral is not for the person that died. That person is dead. What do they care? The funeral is for the family and friends that survived. It provides them with closure. It gives an opportunity to gather with other people that cared about the deceased, and talk about their effect in their lives. It brings peace of mind.

In this case, there was no peace of mind. I wanted to go and see him in the hospital, but because of his wife, I didn't do that. I wanted to be able to pick up the phone and just let him know that we care about what happens to him. I wasn't able to do that because his wife had his phone.

To make matters worse, his wife created all kinds of problems here, almost causing our boss to lose his job over something that he had nothing to do with. Our boss had no control over whether this person tried to kill himself or not. He had no control over how this person's wife acted. Yet, because of the situation, it looked bad on him, and for a few weeks there, we thought every day was going to be his last day. We were all trying to figure out "back up plans" just in case something, somewhere, that was said sometime, was taken out of context and we lost our job because of it.

So, here I am, three months later and I only think about the whole situation once every couple of days now. His name comes up sometimes, when customers ask about having something done, "Can _______ come out and check my tank?" I have to explain that he no longer works here. Or a customer will call with the same first name as him. I immediately think of him, every time I hear that first name. Little things make me think of him, and I'm caught off guard. I've gotten a lot better, though. Well enough that I wasn't aware that I was even seriously bothered by it. I'd heard he'd survived. I'd heard that he was getting help. I never expected to see or hear from him again.

Then he called.

[Phone rings]
Me: Gas Incorporated, this is Brenda.
Him: Hey, Brenda {my heart started pounding before I realized whose voice it was}, this is ___________. Is Doug around?
Me. No, he's out setting a tank right now. How are you? {feeling sick to my stomach, heart pounding, hands shaking}
Him: I'm doing a lot better. I've been in Florida for the past 45 days, getting help. I'm going through with the divorce. I'm finally getting things straightened out in my life.

I won't bother with the rest of the conversation. The point is that I don't even know what to do with that snippet of conversation, emotionally. I'm freaked out. I want to cry from relief. I want to yell at him for doing this to everyone that cares about him. I want to hug him to know that he has finally gotten the help he needs. I can't even begin the whole range of emotions. I'm in shock.

But it gets worse. He's coming here. He wanted to have lunch with my boss, just to talk, but the corporate office put a block on that. I was told that it was better that they don't see each other. So, here I am, left with some paperwork and a message for him.

I want to see him, to confirm in my own mind, that he is still alive.
I want to see him smile again.
I want to see my old friend and know in person that he will be ok.
The other part of me wants to lock the office door and leave for lunch, and pretend like we'd never even spoken.
I don't want to be the one to tell him that my boss came back, gave me the papers and message, and left again.
I don't know if I can face him. I'm not sure I have the strength to deal with this... not today, not ever.
I thought I wanted to just see him one more time, but now that I'm getting that opportunity, I want to run away screaming.
It's like being haunted.
I feel like he's a ghost.
It's not real.
How do I wrap my mind around that in the next 25 minutes in order to keep myself together when he's here?

I don't know.

Heavy Heart

As I get older, I find my lifes relates to a small stream of water working it's way through stones. It sometimes flows quickly then slowly, before picking up speed again. It usually takes the easiest path, but can wear stones down to create a better path when needed. Often, the path may change suddenly, and without warning. That doesn't stop the water from flowing. It just takes a different route. Water is resiliant. It is strong and determined... and yet, it is only water.

This is me. It would seem that although plans and ideas have been made, they can change in an instant. Sometimes it is me making the changes because I've developed a better idea or whatever, or it is some outside influence causing the changes. Either way, I hold true to the saying, "I'm a woman, therefore, I can change my mind." My stream changes abruptly and heads in a different direction.

I have something going on in my life recently, that has caused my heart to become heavy. I am at odds with the situation. I am trying to decide what it is about my personality that is making the situation difficult. Should I put a rock down to stop the two streams from flowing together? Or do I open up more and allow more of my river to join into the bigger stream?

I realize that I'm being somewhat cryptic, but I have something going on in my life that is making me sad, and yet, I feel like I have no one to talk to. So... it gets put on here. But, if the person knows who I am talking about, they may become angry about my airing out their business. So, more than anything, I feel like I need to get some feelings out.

I feel sad.
Lonely.
Overwhelmed.
Useless and Hopeless.
Dependent.
Needy.
Unsure.

Above all, I'm angry.

I'm angry at myself because I feel that some situations in my past have made it more difficult to develop the correct friendships/relationships in my present. Because of some things that I've experienced, I have closed myself off from others, making it hard to trust anyone and let them in. Sadly, it is completely unfair to the people that I care about. I just don't know how let anyone in completely.

"Never lay all your cards out on the table."

Even after I figured this out about myself, I still have no idea what to do. I expect too much of people, then get disappointed, and then use that as a reason to wall people off. So, how do I know if my expectations are reasonable and that person just doesn't fit into the realm of what I want around in my life? Do I continue as I am, hoping to hold on as long as possible, before certain people in my life stop trying to get in and just walk away? I don't know what to do. Part of me says to just "set them free" while another part of me is screaming for them not to walk out the door.

Can you see the Libra in me? There is clearly a reason our symbol is the scales.

The one thing I can say, is that I do care deeply for this person, but I don't know how to tell if that is enough.