"I" Didn't Die

I didn't die.
I lived.
A piece of my heart and soul will always remain with my late husband.
But the bottom line is that I didn't die.
He did.
The life we had together reached its final chapter.
The dreams we hadn't gotten around to processing will forever remain unfilled.
But yet, I am still alive. 

My life is forever changed. 

My grief isn't more or less than that of anyone else going through a similar trauma. It is simply different. It is uniquely mine. Just as every relationship is different, the grief at the end of every relationship is different. Sometimes my grief sits quietly in the background, acting as a silent observer of my life. Sometimes my grief is a turbulent ocean, and it is ALL I can do to keep swimming... to keep breathing... to keep my head above the grief.
But I do.
Not because I'm special or because I'm strong, but because I am the owner of my grief. My grief isn't any more valuable than the next person's.
But it is unique.
It's mine.

My pain is soul shattering.
It can be so devastating that at times the level reaches beyond pain and turns to mind numbing calmness. It's allowed me to notice pain in others. It's provided me with more tolerance for perceived issues while at the same time less patience in dealing with nonsense. It's allowed me to see that the childhood adage that "Life's not fair," was one of the truest lessons we learned. And that it is a lesson we are continuing to learn. Life may not be fair, but the only one I can live is mine. And so I do.

I've learned the dangers of the what-ifs.
What if I had noticed something?
What if I had checked on him?
What if I had acted differently, or spoken differently, or loved differently, or had just done it all differently?
Would he still be here?
Would we still be writing our story?
Or would the outcome be the same? Yet different. Because we would have been different. Our relationship would have been different. In indulging this line of thought, I negate the very things that made us, "us". Life happens. 

What if it had been me instead of him? I'd want him to continue on and create a life rich enough for both of us. To experience more of the dreams. To know joy and happiness...
I'd want him to continue his story.
While keeping the chapters that were us.
And letting go of enough to create chapters that don't contain me, yet somehow in my own vain way, may remind others that I existed. That I mattered. That our chapters were worthy of the pages they are written on.

And so I will wake up to face another morning.
I will smile at people I see.
I will watch elderly couples holding hands and know that it will never be us.
And I will continue on.
I will embrace new opportunities and chances.
I will try to live a life worth living for both of us. 

Because once again, I have changed.
I have grown.
I am moving in a new scary direction.
Not down a path I would have chosen on my own, but one that I was tossed upon, and am learning to navigate, one twist and turn at a time...

9-13-2018

On Thursday, September 13, 2018 Jeff Oldaker went to heaven. I'm pretty sure most everybody knows this now and I'm not blindsiding anyone. My heart is completely shattered. My world is forever changed. Jeff was very active and only in his 40's, and he suffered a fatal heart attack. Thank you everyone for all your kinds words! Hug your family tight, you never know when it'll be the LAST TIME.......

https://www.ee-fh.com/m/obituaries/Jeffrey-Oldaker/Memories

12/19/17 Jeff Oldaker 300 Game

APPROVED, Finally!!!

Jeff came home from work on a HOT August afternoon

and grabbed the mail like he always does. 

I'm sitting at the table out by the pool on our gorgeous deck. 

He goes inside, 

then comes out with a letter in his hand. 

When I saw the size of the envelope, 

I instantly {Hoped} knew exactly what it was. 

And when he handed it to me 

I just froze...
I let it sit a few minutes before opening it...

Let me back up for a minute.

I stalk my mailman.
When I hear him driving down our street

I almost ALWAYS meet him at the curb 

...and he knows why. 

He saw me outside by the pool, 
we both waived. 

But this time he did something unusual, 
he honked when he put the mail in the mailbox...  

It was his way of telling me he just delivered 

what I had been waiting for... 

Knowing Jeff would be pulling in at any moment, 
I just waited for him to get it.

I WAS SCARED,
I KNEW IT WAS HERE

So there I sit with the letter in front of me.

Hesitant to open it BUT dying to know the outcome...

DEEP BREATH 

Jeff, in the meantime, has walked away 

giving me time to read it. 

He could tell when he handed it to me that I was stunned...
I open it...

 I don't even bother to pull the entire letter out. 

I just look at the top of page 2. 

BECAUSE I KNOW  
exactly where the decision is...

I screamed, "YES" 
so loud my neighbor's could hear it!!!

...and then I started to cry.

Jeff knew right then and there that I was approved, 
he came over and hugged me. 
I just sobbed in his arms for about 15 minutes.

FINALLY...
after nearly a 6 year battle.

I have been approved for Social Security Disability...

It only took 3 lawyers, 2 court dates and going to 

FEDERAL COURT 

for a "Fully Favorable" decision on Aug 26, 2016.

AND...

It is approved all the way back to 2011. 

It will be one hell of a payday when we receive that check.

THAT CHECK

has blood, sweat, tears

and nearly a divorce written all over it.

That check 

is something that Jeff and I deserve after all that we've been through with these disease's. 

I CAN FINALLY EXHALE...

~Denied

~ Social Security Disability Income

On January 13th I received my SSDI decision in the mail.

DENIED...

AGAIN...

The next step is to either file a claim with the federal courts or refile (start the process all over again, but with a November 2012 filing date versus a February 2011 start date {original} ). 

Right now I'm thinking that refilling is my best bet, as I was denied benefits again because they did not take into consideration all the problems I was left with after my Oct. 2011 brain surgery.

I have several issues from that surgery alone. Not to mention the 7 previous brain surgeries prior to Oct. 2011. 16 surgeries in all. 8 brain & 8 spine &/or abdominal surgeries. I am seeing several new Dr's now, with God only knows how many NEW Dx's I have. 

When I filed in Feb. 2011 it was everything up to that point. After February, I had several more "FAILED" surgeries and a devastating October 2011 surgery that left me and my family in a very difficult time.

So since October 2011 several things have happened with my health. My new brain shunt is for the most part "stable" it's all the problems due to all the surgeries, medications and psychological issues that left me with what is killing me now. 

{I still suffer from headaches daily, don't get me wrong. Especially when there's a weather front moving in. But it's something that I have learned to deal with as best as I can, even if it means a day in bed just to deal with the pain} 

I just don't want to keep messing around with the settings like my previous Neurosurgeon did and end up with overdrawn ventricles again.

One of the hardest things I've had to over come is losing my family and friends. I've become so isolated, due to my health and the fact that people just don't "believe" what I'm going through is REAL because on the outside I look like a normal person, but it's a war going on inside my body and mind...

~All Day

~Every Day

~ The most difficult post I’ve written

...exhale...

I keep hearing the message that one of the most helpful things any of us can do for others is to show how we have healed ourselves from personal trauma and to allow our stories to become medicine for others.

What lies beneath is not so easy. Perhaps sharing my deepest story, as difficult as it is to put on the Internet, will help others. (I hope so because the vulnerability is nearly unbearable. I’ve been at odds with myself for days.)

Do you know it is estimated that 1 in 6 American women has been sexually assaulted (attempted, complete rape or incest) during her life?

It is being written by one.

The chance that an incest/rape victim is reading this blog post is high.
 Like me I have searched the Internet for help & or answers. Maybe coming across my blog post will empower another woman to get the help she needs and FINALLY let that family skeleton out of the closet. 

My story is a bit more complicated 
because I was around 4 years old when the incest started. 
It was forceful and wrong. 
And the more I developed into a young woman~ 
the worse it got.

This is no secret to my parents, however sharing the 
family skeleton on the Internet is risky. 
I have chosen to share it to help people understand that I’ve experienced dark personal trauma and I’ve been healing through therapy.

Read about it here: ~ Believing ~ 

I want anyone who needs inspiration to know that peace can be attained. 
It’s also a final healing step for me to come out of the closet 
where that skeleton lurks.

I've binged to suffocate my feelings and did nothing to alleviate the shame of my eating behavior my whole life. But now it is time to set all of that free. 
To become the person I want to be. 
That my husband and daughter deserve me to be.

It took me a long time to sort through what had happened with my abusers, to organize my emotional life, to seek help and to heal. I was numb for a long time, was very angry for a large chunk of my adulthood and finally arrived at acceptance... but not forgiveness...

Where my real struggle lied was in forgiving my parents who were supposed to protect me~ the youngest child, a daughter, with three much older brothers. Then  rescue, comfort and help repair me after I told….
or so I thought. 
Professional therapy probably would have been a good start. 

So what was done? Nothing.

 After the incest 
I endured decades of confusion, 
fear, anger, self-hatred and deep shame.

Have I healed?

At age 41, I can confidently say that I have done a lot of healing, connecting with people who accept me “as is” and not so much forgiving. 
I will not forgive those 
who do not acknowledge that what they've done is wrong 
and have ruined not only my life but "MY" immediate family's as well. 

Writing publicly about the incest is a final piece of my healing process. Feeling reluctant to expose the family secret has kept me feeling ashamed of myself. Even though I am NOT the one who should be ashamed... Worrying about others’ feelings more than my own has kept me quiet. I’m ready to disempower the shame, speak my truth and let others feel how they choose to feel about it. 

It's MY happiness & MY family that deserve to be set free.

I understand that I am not my story, however my story is a launching pad for telling the bigger story of my mental illness. 
Depression, Anxiety & Dissociative Fugue 
are all a part of the after effects of years of sexual abuse done upon to me. Not to mention by more than one family member. 

Though I’m grateful for the life lessons that have blessed me recently,

 I wouldn’t wish this experience to happen to anyone. 

Life hands each of us challenges through which we can choose to grow or grow a tumor. I’m choosing to grow. 
Read about it here: Life's Perfect Storm

It’s taken me a long time to say that. 

I am thankful for where I am in my life today. 
I know that each moment was a step to get here, so I am thankful for the family skeleton who has been set free rather than continuing to hold me prisoner.

Finally ~
There's an end to every storm
Once all the tree's have been uprooted
Once all the houses have been ripped apart
The wind will hush~
The clouds will part~
The rain will stop~
The sky will clear in an instant
and only then~
 in those quiet moments
after the storm do we learn~
WHO was strong enough to
SURVIVE...

I thank my husband and daughter again for NOT giving up on me!!!