We do not begin to heal until we give ouselves permission to hurt.
Ugh! I read that statement yesterday and it hit me like a ton of bricks! My second husband died unexpectantly on New Years Eve a few years ago, I have since remarried but I haven’t let go of him yet. A ghost now stands silently as my shadow, blocking out the sun in my life. We shared secretly an addiction only I took the blame for. No one knew he did coke also, I protected him, told everyone it was just me and they believed it. Why did I do this, why did I take the fall from Grace, from my family, from everything I lost, I fucking loved him. This man was the only person before the coke and after the coke that saw me, loved me, accepted me just as I was. It hurt sometimes just to look at him, he was everything to me. I remember a time when my son came home from the Marine Corp on leave in his dress blues and Cam brought him to my job. The whole place shut down to applaud an Americam hero, I walked through the place with a marine one one arm and my big covered in leathers husband on the other, beaming and so proud these men were mine. God , I loved that moment!
My sons did not like this man due to his age(14 yrs my Jr.) but they knew there was nothing on this earth that would make me give him up…….but death. I divorced him but it was only in society’s eyes, we were still together, still loving, still talking, still having the best sex of my life. This 6’2′, fully tattooed, strong man had epilepsy. He saw this as a weakness, he hated it, he lost one job after another because of it, when he had a job, he threw himself into it. He loved having the income to support us even though I made enough for us both, it hurt his ego, even though I told him it didn’t matter. It mattered. We lived in the country, I moved to the city to find work and get a place, he stayed with his mother. We talked on yahoo messenger every morning, I saved those conversations until my computer got so slow so I cleaned up the hard drive and erased all instant messages and such…….. I hadn’t talked to Cam on New Years, I sent him a message I was spending it with an old school friend of mine and I would catch up later…… Later never came, around 9:30 pm, I got a call from my daughter in law that my mother in law called and it was important I call her…… Cam took a handful of barbiturates, seized in his office chair and fell out breaking his neck……. He was dead. He was FUCKING DEAD! NONONONONOOOOOOOOOO! And I had erased him……….
Since I wasn’t officially his wife, his mother took him to the mortuary, removed all his piercings and had him cremated. It took me two days to get there and she had already done this. She said he had committed suicide and that there wasn’t any reason for a funeral………. This was her baby, she loved him, she was in pain and this was best for her. But not for me, I never saw him dead. I know he is dead, I sprinkled his ashes on his grandparents grave but I have no closure. I had all those conversations on my fucking computer that I erased, I erased him…. I was living with my son at the time, both of my sons could give a shit if Cam was dead, I wasn’t allowed to grieve, there was no one to talk to….. So I drank and drank and drank…..
My last drunk was on our wedding anniversary Jan20,2011. He died New Years Eve 2008, I had since in a drunken state remarried a guy I’m still married to now. He has been through hell with me as I sobered up. Funny thing is , he a nice guy, a compassionate man with a heart of gold, way to good for me….. And he is living with a ghost……….Me!
My Sponser had me write a letter to my dead husband, it took me 6 months to do it. I was afraid if I did, that it would mean Cam was really gone. I would have to shut the door on that time and move on. I finally wrote the letter, it’s been three weeks, I haven’t taken it to my Sponser yet due to my husband now being in the hospital but I just realized last night after reading the statement, ( We don’t begin to heal until we give ouselves permission to hurt. ) I haven’t done that. I haven’t not let that pain in, I’m afraid of it, I don’t want to feel that. I JUST DONT! I’m afraid if I let myself go, I’ll get lost and lose my ghost.
I don’t dream or if I do I don’t remember them, until recently. So real, it takes my breath away, it wakes me up. I dreamed of Cam, it was hot , we were at a lake, his head was in my lap, he was sweating and I wiped the sweat off his brow, as I looked up his mother said “Don’t you know he is dead?” I looked down , he was gone but my hand was wet, I woke up in such a fright and looked at my hand. Of course it was dry but the dream was so real and in color and I hated his mother so much at that second, for taking him away. I had him, it was us again, in the sun, wind blowing softly, beer drenched in ice, him looking at me with those beautiful eyes, eyes you could swim in, my baby……. Gone!
This ghost is killing me softly with out raising a hand. This ghost is standing between my husband and me. I get so mad at him cause he isn’t Cam. I won’t let him in, I’m afraid if this ones dies on me, I’m done. Sometimes it seems like the tether I’m hanging onto is on its last little string and it’s going to break. And when it does, and when it does, and when it does…..
This is where my addiction kicks in and wants me alone so it can kill me. I am not alone , I have a huge community I can call on, and I will but I just had to get this out without someone interrupting me, without someone saying it will get better, or some other thing. I have a lot to be grateful for today, I have a husband who loves me, children, grandchildren, a great church, AA fellowship, friends and of course Cameron the friendly ghost. Love to all DALEANN
daleanntaylor57 