Grief.

Dear reader,

I know it’s been a long time. Too long. And yet here I am, turning to you to about something that has nothing to do with sex. But everything to do with love.

A few months back, my dad died. Somewhat unexpectedly. And it’s rocked my world. It’s been nearly three months and I have made little progress in my grief. If I’m honest, it’s probably worse now than it was in the beginning. And, sure, there’s things that complicate it. The loss of my childhood home. The isolation that death brings to an only child. The devastation of losing a father to a daddy’s girl.

But worse than all the feelings of loss my father’s death created, is the impact it’s had on my marriage. And, if I come back to honesty again, I’m scared to fucking death. M and I, we’ve always been strong. Even in our bad points, he’s always been the shoulder I lean on when I cry, the  arms that hold me when I’m weak, and the hand the picks me up when I’m down.

But this time, that’s not how it’s going. Or at least not how it feels.

See, I’m a hot mess. I cry. Every fucking day. Some days a lot. Sob would probably be the better term.

I rage. Hit things until my knuckles bleed. Kick at the wall and scream at the top of my lungs. I’m moody and mean and can go from laughing to tearing up with absolutely no trigger.

I’m devastated and defeated. And truly failing at every aspect of my life. As a writer. As a daughter. As a mother. And as a wife. And I don’t know what the fuck to do.

Here it is, four am in the god damn morning, and I’m sitting in my room, bailing. I woke up still in garters, stockings, and a nightie, skin scratchy from lace, after crying myself to sleep at midnight. M’s on the couch and I can’t even tell you why.

Well, that’s a lie. I know why. Because he’s at a loss. And I get that. He can’t fix this. Or me. Today, I realized that when I used to cry, it would make him sad. Now, my tears cause anger. And I’m already so angry, I fear my home can’t hold it all in.

We’d been drinking. Then fighting. And drinking. And then fighting some more. Then some stupid fucking argument over a butt plug. More tears. And, when I asked him to finally lay with me, saying, “Baby, come to bed, in bed we always work,” he didn’t even touch me. Even though I’d been sitting in front of him in next to nothing for hours.

I eventually rolled over, onto his shoulder, and slept. But apparently after I fell asleep, he rolled me off and left. For the first time ever, bed didn’t make it okay for us. We didn’t come together in sex, where words are never needed and our bodies speak what we can’t say.

Which really fucking sucks, because the only places I seem to find release from this fury inside me is on his cock and at the bottom of a bottle. Neither of which gave me the soothing I so needed last night.

When I woke up 30 minutes ago and realized he was gone, I literally ripped the stockings off my legs. Left them on the bathroom floor in pieces as evidence of my rage. The only reason I’m typing now is because I’m afraid if I don’t keep my hands busy, I won’t be able to keep my fists from pounding on the walls and I really don’t want to wake the children up in the middle of a night before a crazy long weekend of soccer and softball. Baptisms, mother’s day, and extended family I don’t want to be around. A face full of makeup and fake smiles to hide these secrets from the rest of the world.

So, dear reader, I’m here to confess that I don’t know what to do. I’m allowing my self-wallowing to kill my relationship. And I think my husband’s starting to hate me. At least really dislike me. Or perhaps he’s simply gone from wanting to be with me, to tolerating my presence and emotional craziness.

I don’t know where to turn. I’m in bad shape. I don’t want antidepressants and I won’t go to therapy. Quite frankly, I’m not depressed. I’m just stuck. So overwhelmed by this mother fucking massive amount of grief that I can’t breathe. I can’t focus. I just sit and stare.

Working from home, I spend too much time alone. But I don’t spend more time with friends, because I’m failing at work. Missing deadlines. Unfocused. Spend time sitting with my fingers on the keyboard staring off out the window, trying to make words about chiropractic care and dental implants come together, but they don’t. And it becomes hard to justify time off when I don’t utilize the time I have and work doesn’t get done.

I’m filled with self-defeating behaviors and I’m really starting to hate myself.

Fuck.

I’m lost and lonely in a house filled with people who love me and, still, I don’t know what to do.

ADDENDUM: This is not about bashing my husband. He’s my world. My best friend. Negative words against him will not be tolerated.

 

13 responses to “Grief.

  1. First of all, even though you’re probably tired of hearing it… my deepest condolences. Losing a parent is hard.

    Ok, my two cents (and they’re worth exactly that, but are given from a place of love):
    https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/depression/what-is-depression

    Yes, you’re grieving. But to me, it seems that it’s turned into some sort of depression. Or some other mental illness that was triggered by the grief.

    As I read your post, I was thinking M is probably at a loss because before, he was your rock, and being him, being there, was enough. And now… it’s not. And he feels stuck. Or maybe your father dying also brought up thoughts in him… that he is next in line maybe?

    You say you go from laughing to weepy without trigger. I want to add without any *external* trigger. Did you pay attention to your train of thoughts at that time? They may be all the trigger that brings on the mood shifts.

    I know alcohol numbs the pain, numbs everything, but it’s also a powerful depressor. So the more alcohol you consume, the more likley you are to be depressed. Which may not be what you need at the moment.

    I am wondering why you don’t want anti-depressants? I know it’s no fun to take these meds, and live with some of the side effects they may have. But they may be just the lifeline you need to help you get back up, start to breathe again, instead of feeling like you’re always gasping for air and going under. Starting antidepressants after such a trauma as losing your father could very well be what you need to sort your feelings in a calmer manner, and then say thank you and goodbye after a few months.

    Depending on age, menopause and the upheaval of hormones could also play a role.

    Finally, I am not sure why you don’t want to do therapy. I know that, for me, it’s the thing that has helped me the most, at every stage, including grief. I truly believe that talking about how you feel to someone who doesn’t judge you, who you don’t feel regrets the good old days, or who didn’t know your relationship with your father, may help tremendously. Putting words on the feelings and emotions *behind* the anger (anger is really simply a mask most of the time) is what helped me sort them out and act to change. If you’re not aware of something, there is no way you can change it. Only by allowing yourself to look into it, figure out what is making you so sad/angry/lost can you acknowledge the existence of such feelings and decide in which way you want to allow them into your life, how much space they are given.

    If you truly don’t want to see a therapist or take meds, then taking a true time off, to take care of you and only you, or possibly having someone take care of you, cooking, cleaning and so on… that is what saved me last year. If need be, go to a hospital. I know it helped me a long time ago, when I was so angry that I feared I’d hurt my kids.

    Another option is to find a meditation group, find a shamanism group maybe, or look for a naturopath who could support you while you get better.

    Whatever your decision, I wish you good luck. Sending positive thoughts your way.

    XO

  2. holdenandcamille

    I am very sorry for your loss, Caitlyn. My father passed away in January, after a long illness. It was not unexpected, but painful still. Holden and I wish you peace. ~C

  3. Hi hon, I’m so sorry to hear of what you are going through and your pain. I don’t have any real answers for you, but I do want you to know I’m thinking of you and always here if you want someone to talk to.
    Perhaps talking to a professional, even just once, could help?

  4. (((HUGS))) I am so, so sorry. The loss of a parent is always devastating but as one daddy’s girl to another (who lost her own father 20+ years ago) I empathize even more. And I too am an only-child.

    I’m worried for you. Everyone grieves differently and there is no “right” or “wrong” way to grieve, but I can’t help but think you need external help for this. Therapy and/or meds are personal decisions, but they can help — and it seems that help is what you need.

    As for your work, are you in a position where you can take a break? Clients are much more open and understanding if you tell them you’re taking time off to grieve than if you keep missing deadlines. And writers are needed all the time so you could rebuild that part of your career later, if you needed to. I’d be happy to help with that when the time came.

    • I second everything Kayla said – minus the daddy’s girl part 😉

      Also, it’s ONLY been 3 months. I understand that you’re miserable and M may be at his wits end, but make sure you hear it from his mouth vs assuming how he’s feeling and what he’s thinking.

      Grief alters the way we see the world and you’re an over achiever. You’re gonna want to get over this like you manage everything else: efficiently. And grief is a real fucker like that and doesn’t give a shit what you want and gives you grief-eyes. You only see what your hurting heart wants to see.

      Movement can a powerful alternative to self-medication, actual medication and therapy, so is art, sweet Caitlyn. Sweat every day some how and write every day. You will drown in your sorrow if you don’t pull it out of you by sweat or words. Trust me, I know.

      Lastly, be patient. It will hurt less one day. I promise. Love you, xx Hy

  5. I stumbled across your blog while doing a search. I’ve never posted on anyone’s blog before. After reading many of your posts, I understand how you view love and marriage because we share many of the same views. I won’t give you any platitudes, but will say the power of your grief is overwhelming. I would, ever so politely and respectfully, suggest that you find someone professional to talk to. You are in a very dark place and may have trouble finding clarity. The answers you need are probably to questions you can’t even think to ask. I wish you and M only the best.

  6. You are in a difficult place and acting out in ways that detrimental to you as a wife, mother, and submissive. I just finished your post entitled “The Purpose of Punishment”. You make a strong case for the use of harsh, physical discipline. Perhaps now would be a good time for your husband, Your Sir, to beat your ass with the belt.

  7. There is a rending that comes with certain kinds of grief, I think. And that feeling of being shredded – if there is no positive outlet for it – can easily manifest as wanting to ‘take control’ by shredding everything around you.

    I think, on some level, you probably recognize that.

    I think you probably also realize that the couch makes a lot of sense. If your husband was behaving with the level of ongoing intense anger and uncontrolled violence as you admit to having displayed yourself, you would not feel physically or emotionally safe with your partner. When you feel unsafe, you remove yourself from the situation.

    A note of caution: Be careful about assuming anger is his primary emotion. You are <strongexperiencing grief but acting in anger. He likely *does* feel sad – just as he always has – about your own sadness, but if you are acting in anger, then it only makes sense that anger would be his defense mechanism too.

    I am sorry you’re feeling so torn.

    I hope you’re able to stitch things back together – internally and externally – soon.

    xo

  8. I am sorry for your loss and anguish. I’ve experienced similar grieving and anger, and never found any true solace. Therapy helped me a bit, in combination with the soothing antidotes presented within Eastern philosophies on suffering. But in hindsight, a semblance of peace only came from the expanse of years lengthening between the physical loss and my memories.

    It is a great process, to learn the true depths of one’s feelings…all of the interconnected tendrils that twist down into one’s childhood (and beyond, perhaps). Your blog is a tribute to the power of open and honest communication. Please continue writing about and encouraging the warm and loving union you’ve revealed here over the years.

  9. An infrequent reader, so I missed that you lost your Dad. I am totally and utterly sorry. As a Daddy’s girl myself, I cannot process how it feels to lose the one man who you know will crack the Earth open for you, no matter what. (Except husbands, of course.)

    Grief is what i is and when I lost a sibling, I was so screwed that my hair fell out and thinned. I was devastated and I just created a bubble of distance around myself. It was the only way to calm the howling angry confused thing I had become. It took me years to feel ‘normal’. Please understand that each person goes thru and adjusts at their own rate.

    Those around us that love us are just at a loss, because they just cannot fix it, solve it, mitigate it. They have to wait.
    As do you.

    I hope you are getting some resources to help you, as you heal.

  10. Thank you all for your comments, support, and words. I love you all. xoxo

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