Friday, November 20, 2009

worst fears

My worst fears are playing themselves out. I don't fear dieing young - it isn't easy but it's happening.

I don't fear dieing in a hospital - it's not my ideal, but I can't control it.

I don't fear dieing in my sleep - OK, some nights it terrorizes me, but in the end it would be a nice way to go, just not for the person who has to wake up beside me.

I do fear dieing alone, of a broken heart both literally and metaphorically. And that's what's happening.

Some days I don't know which hospital I will end up in first: the RO or the Heart Institute. Between the tachycardia (brought on by stress/loss) and the actual stress I'm one big ball of BROKEN. And I'm alone in that brokenness. Well, I do have a few friends on my "side" of things. Everyone else, gone.

This year has been a record year for loss, from losing my future with my cardio-man telling me this is the last chapter in January, to financial loss (I had to dump 2 jobs due to my health), to losing Thomas, to losing my legal footings (power of attorney etc.), to losing a long-time dear friend through a move, to losing my home and my life mate to losing my "community/tribe". I'm shocked actually that I'm not in the RO right now. Even if I was, there would be no one to make decisions on my behalf.


The only 2 women I trusted enough to not take sides and be my power-of-attorney (for care/hospital stuff) are far from my heart. One now lives 7 hours away and the other is moving away. The security I thought I had about my health and the decisions that would be made/carried out when hooked up to a ventilator (if I even get that far) are no longer secure. That scares the shit out of me that except a piece of paper with my instructions, no one will be there. No one will be there. No one has been there (OK, to be fair, 2 of "my friends" have been. But no one, no one of "ours" have been). Yet another loss.


No one will know if I die alone. I don't have that many friends and that facade called community is disappearing with the woman walking out the door. Splits definitely divide "friends". It's sad that blood family really is all one has - at best. Friends and community, as I'm learning, as much as there's investment and built up parameters, are just that, a facade.


I looked at an apartment in a "crack house". Alraight, it's not officially one, but it is designated social housing. My name miraculously came up on the social housing registry (I had put my name down about 7 years ago and the timing couldn't be better! I have no income, no wife, no life). So I visited the place/offer, and it's OK, I can even have my cats with me. But all I could envision walking through the place was me dead on the floor and the only reason someone would know would be the stench that my neighbour would smell. Living alone and dieing alone is my worst fear and it looks like it may come to fruition. Yeah me. This is what I spent all those years building, investing in, only for her to leave me?


Granted, we never did put ourselves first, we never found the money in our tight budget to put towards counselling to help our issues once and for all. We've always been rocky - that's no secret to anyone - but we've *always* been there for each other. Only I've been shut out of her grieving process - yet I shared mine (about my health). I think there's only so much outside stressors a couple can take before each of the people involved crack. I cracked, I behaved badly, she cracked and pushed me away. The she said she said is not important. What I'm writing about is insurmountable loss that humans can't get through healthily without community, friends. I no longer have that. I suppose I never had that - perhaps people were always her friend and I was the tag-along wife. That's the feeling I'm left with. Not sure and don't care; just left with heart break. I just know how alone I've been purging my life, packing it up. It's a good thing I started (slowly) purging when I got sicker - but it still hasn't made it easy. It seemed easier to purge stuff when I knew I no longer needed it because of the shorter life journey. It was my way of making things lighter for my (wife) when I left this planet. She wouldn't have so much of my physical stuff to deal with. (Aren't I always thinking of others?) This purge is much more difficult. It's a "I can't carry this to my new social housing unit, because literally, I can't *carry* this, so I have to part with it. That's tough. Especially when it's not my choice.


So in the end my worst fears are coming to light. I'm dieing of a broken heart. We all knew that, but now I'm also dieing of a broken heart - 10 years; she has my heart, all of it.