Wednesday, December 05, 2012
So I took a week off. Both to avoid the situation at home, by escaping to an entirely different state (Oregon, vs. California), and to let myself grieve, and separate myself.
My love and my family are an incredible blessing to me. When I first moved out, my Grams let me move in with her for a few days, and let my boyfriend stay there too so that he could still visit. Since he lives an hour and a half away, and I needed to be in my hometown to discuss moving Samir out with his father, so couldn't go Aaron's way, he came and ended up crashing on my Grams' futon. Though honestly my family doesn't know Aaron that well, as we only spend limited time together and he's pretty quiet, they accepted him, welcomed him, because they knew that he was good for me and would help me, and they know that I love him and needed him.
My mom has been a shoulder to cry on, a sounding board, monetary support, allowed me to escape to her house, as well as helped whenever I needed her to when I actually needed help with Samir, like reviewing documents we wrote, or fixing things that needed fixing for his care, or making sure that he got fish (which, as Yurok tribal members, is pretty important.) My uncle and cousins have come gotten Samir and me out of fixes, and my auntie has been there to cry with me first OVER Samir, and then BECAUSE of Samir.
And Aaron has been there through it all. I met him over a year ago, and we've been dating for almost a year now. It will be a year on the 22nd. He was there as Samir became progressively more unhinged, listened when I needed to talk, held me when I needed to cry, made me laugh when I don't know if anybody else could have. Never gave up on me or that I would get out of this situation, even when I didn't feel worthy, or feared myself that I couldn't escape it.
And I am so incredibly grateful for the support I've had from those who love me.
After about six days with Aaron in Grants Pass, a lot of tears, and fears, and anger, and grieving, I'm almost back home. Just writing this out before I leave work. Samir was moved out yesterday. He was supposed to be gone last Sunday to his dad's place, but then they actually found him his own place and so it took 'til Tuesday to get him moved into there. And every day was harder. I just wanted it to be done. As I was describing to Aaron, it was like waiting to have a limb amputated. You may know it has to be done, but you dread it, and the waiting for this terrible thing to happen seems unbearable, and you just want it over.
Now that it is over, I feel okay. All this negative, twisting, tension, is gradually releasing. The situation had become unbearable months ago, and the constant pressure of this festering and bloated wound was killing both of us. Now that it's been lanced it's like all the enflamed angry pain is draining away, with almost instant relief. I'm sorry for the imagery, but that's how it feels to me.
At this point, and I'm so glad, I'm just sad now. Which, it may seem odd to be glad to be sad, but the point is, I'm already past the anger, which is such a relief, because it hurt inside, and did nothing but harm.
I know, I KNOW, that Samir is damaged, bad, inside. And I think it's easy to let go of the anger because I don't even think that Samir is the same person really, since the accident. That makes it easier because I couldn't wrap my head or heart around how my friend could treat me like that, or anybody like that. He's been altered. Which, while it doesn't make the situation better, does make it easier to forgive. And if I forgive, then I have no cause to be angry. And I'm not angry now. Just sad. And it's easier to heal from sad than angry.
But oh I'm sad. His life is going to be hard. It's hard enough being paralyzed, but until and unless he heals mentally and emotionally, it's going to be even harder. But no matter how much affection or attention I gave him, I couldn't heal him. He was convinced that his physical state was all that mattered, and the emotional trauma to which he was subjected, and to which he was subjecting others, was not actually relevant. But that's not true, in either case. Until he recognizes his own damage and seeks help, he won't heal.
What also makes me sad is that he doesn't have the support I have. His family is not what I recognize as family. They say they love each other, but they're never there for each other. And they were quite happy to let me have the responsibility over him and not visit for a month at a time. He only ever saw his father and brother, and got visits from the rest of his family less than a handful of times, on holidays. His brother at least was quite UNhappy to ever take care of him physically. And while if you gave his dad a heads up he'd come through, he couldn't be counted on to see to all of Samir's needs, or put them before his own. I don't see them stepping up particularly while he's off on his own. I hope I'm wrong. I hope that knowing that I'm not there anymore means that they'll be there more, and that their family will grow stronger. I hope and pray.
I'm sad BECAUSE Samir is going to stay so angry, which is not good for him. I'm sad for the times that he's going to hurt because of choices that he makes, or because of his vulnerabilities and dependencies on other people, since people don't always come through. I'm sad over what a struggle the rest of his life is going to be.
I'm sad to have lost a friend. Not only in that we won't be associating anymore, but because he's lost to himself right now. I'm sad that he doesn't have any faith in something larger than himself, and that this world, the physical, is all he'll accept. His only anchor is himself, and he's so damaged right now that I fear, I've seen, that he won't be strong enough to hold himself together. I wish I could have shown him God and His love better, but in that I failed, miserably.
But I'm letting him go. I was not good for him. He couldn't grow with me there, and in fact grew worse because I was there. And he definitely was not good for me. There's no point in prolonging something that's only damaging to both parties. As was said in response to my last blog, and as both I and my counselor have independently concluded, it's time to grieve, and let go.
Tonight will be the first night that I stay in my house alone. Most of his stuff is purportedly moved out, according to my dad who has been housesitting. Thinking about the emptiness daunts me a bit. It's been years since I lived alone. I still have my cat. And hehe, she's really loud. So maybe that will help fill the void. But I really do think I need to start fresh in my house.
I want to scrub the carpet clean, and paint the walls in his room. Make it into something cheerful or good, like back to a pretty guest room, or maybe into my exercise room. I want to add more color to my house, reds and lavenders, pink, cheerful colors you know? I think I might get another kitten, which I've been wanting for a while now, or even another pup. My last dog ran away during all this. He was always an escape artist, led other dogs astray even, like my mom's who got led onto the highway and suffered a broken leg from it. Dumb butt dog. And I grieved, hard, over the loss of him. He was such a good dog, such a love. Always seemed to be laughing up at you, enjoying life, enjoying your company. Kind of strange, but even after all the heartache that Samir's accident caused me as I cried over him, I cried over the loss of my Kodi-bug even longer. It was the thing that made it all unbearable initially. I didn't really stop crying until over a year later, and still randomly, up until a few months ago, hoped he'd be sitting in my drive when I got home from work, that he'd found his way home to me. Hehe, I'm crying over him as I sit here typing.
It may be time again. It's been almost a year and a half. A calmer dog this time I think, than a lab. I keep thinking about a springer spaniel like my mom has, who is SUCH a love. And definitely a tracking chip in this one. I don't think I could take just losing a dog again. It would have almost been better if I'd known he'd been hit, because I wouldn't have been left to wonder. I have since concluded, somewhat forcefully in my mind, that he was picked up. He was handsome, and people love hunting dogs around here. So I imagine that he got picked up by someone seeing a pretty stray hunting dog, and adopted into their family. And I try and let it go at that.
But we'll see. Baby steps. In the meantime, I continue to pray. For me, for Samir. I think I'll continue to cry for a while. But I'll continue to strive to have faith that we'll both move on to better lives because of this.