Out of the Closet

I lashed out at my sister, yesterday, my sister who met her husband when she was 15 and who is still with him at age 41.

I finally completed my certificate in web and digital design and instead of saying "Congratulations." she said, "Oh WOW. Robin finally completed something!" so right in front of her husband and my 13-year-old nephew, I said, "Well, I would have finished faster IF MY HUSBAND HADN'T DIED." I hated the lack of control that allowed that venom to come shooting out of my mouth. I felt ashamed. I want to be more in control and I need to stop using Chris’ death as ammunition to force people to consider the odds I was facing while continuing my studies, acting in shows and getting a new job. I know, it just doesn’t get more vicitimy than that. No need to comment, commenters, I know I slid back into victim stance. I’m out again, though. Be kind.

I wrote her the following e-mail trying to explain my side of it:

Hi. I just want to apologize again for what I said earlier. I feel really ashamed that I lost control of myself that way. It's that season of anniversaries again and I know it's tough for people to believe and understand that at the two-year mark I'm still feeling very sad, but it's true.

I saw a grief counselor last week who basically told me the feelings of sadness are never going to go away and that I will learn to control them as time goes by. It's hard, though, especially now with the anniversary of the diagnosis, his birthday, the holidays and our wedding anniversary staring me in the face.

This is the hardest thing I have ever had to endure. Some days I don't know how I am going to live out the rest of my life, not just without him, but with the memories of what happened to him and how sick he got and how I couldn't help him at all stuck in my brain.

I keep trying to push on and I'm doing really well physically...keeping busy, going to school, dating, etc. It's really hard to come home at night to absolute quiet where there used to be a person who cared about me talking with me, listening to me and just being with me.

I started taking more of my Ativan to help me when I'm alone. I just need to tell my doctor and see if she approves.

Basically, I feel broken. I'm okay when I'm around people, as you know. I'm just living a double-life. Happy with people, devastated when I'm alone. I really miss him. He was a perfect fit for me and I was so proud to have him and for the first time in my life, I felt like I had accomplished something and then it was gone.

I just wanted to tell you so you'll know that my comment didn't come from a "mean" place. I lashed out because of how much I am hurting. I won't hurt you again. I hated how it felt and I'm sorry. I love you. Love, Robin

She responded with the following:

Don't worry about it. I can't say & hope I never have to say I know what you're going through. But I can say, "forget about it" it's over. That's all."

I’m pretty certain that by “it’s over.” she meant my comment and not my grief. Still, I poured so much of myself into that apology and I thought she would have more to say.

Why is death so taboo in this country? It makes coping so much more difficult when everybody runs in the opposite direction.

I don't want to go into hiding. Maybe that's the purpose of the book I am writing, to be out of the closet about death.