Welp I went, I wasn't sure I wanted to go, I was so afraid to go. I knew I wasn't going to like anything I heard, and that staying calm would be the hardest thing I would do all day. I knew it would be hard, I didn't know I was going to get kicked in the stomach and then have my heart ripped out for good measure.
We agreed to be tolerant of each other as we left the table, and I will certainly try, but only one of us walked away so ripped into shreds it isn't even for sure all the pieces made it home.
The closer was sent in and the job was finished, doors slammed and if not locked, jammed so tight it will take a miracle to ever open them again.
The sense of betrayal is such a heavy weight I am not exactly sure how I stand up. Theres nothing in my stomach or I am sure I would be throwing up.
It is bed time, and sleep I am sure would be the best for me, but I know my mind won't shut down and the compressions on my chest making me feel like I can't breath will just have me up and pacing.
I want to yell, to scream, to pound my fist into the wall, and yell some more, I want to be allowed to have my say and to actually be heard. Heard and understood, and while I know it is asking a lot to be believed.
I am not going to feel sorry for myself, I have wiped my tears and I will allow no more to fall. Tomorrow I will put on my big girl pants and live life as best as I can.I will accept that I am feeling pain and disappointment and that both are a part of living and I just have to deal with them when they come along.
No more phone calls no more pleading, no more crying or begging or even compromise, just look forward smile and be happy for the joy that was gifted for the time it was gifted. At least for a while I had the pleasure of being Mom and Grandmama, now I guess it is time to just be me.
And I was right, I cried, I couldn't breath, I sobbed and cried harder, and gasped for air, but the entire time my mind wouldn't stop, wouldn't shut up.
It kept asking am I really that horrible? It is said I didn't like the first wife, so therefore it must be my fault that the 2nd wife hates me and because she is sure I hate her. I asked over and over again did I really deserve to be left out of my own family, to find out 2 yrs later my son got married, to find out on social media my grandson was baptized, my ex was invited but not me. All of that and more went through my head and just wouldn't stop. To hear my Granddaughter that I helped raise no longer wants to talk to or see me, because she thinks I treat a child ( her brother) I have not been allowed to see in 4 yrs differently than I treat her. What was worse was the adult ( My Son) she told this huge mis leading information to didn't correct her, they just excused it when they finally got around to telling me, saying well she's a teenager. The person telling me my Granddaughter no longer wants anything to do with me, knew she was ripping my heart out, she just sat there coldly watching, telling me I couldn't argue with my granddaughter I just had to except her feelings. I will never believe that I was told this out of love and concern. It will always seem to me this information was delivered for the pain and hurt it would cause.
All of this went through my head, and also all the time I had spent with her, the enjoyable times I had with my son, and then the thoughts I just didn't want to have, the ones that land me where I don't want to be. You know the ones, the let me just get drunk and stay that way, or the why the fuck am I even still breathing? According to everyone I have ever loved or cared about, and I guess the rest of the world I am just a worthless piece of shit that hasn't done anyone a damn bit of good.
I made no move to get out of the bed, and forced myself to stop being dramatic, to stop hurting, to stop caring, to stop believing there is or ever will be a chance that my family will come together and heal. I finally slept, and when I woke up this morning the heaviness in my chest and the emptiness in the pit of my stomach are still there, I imagine they will be there a good long time.
I have decided it doesn't matter if I am that horrible person or not. It is how my son and granddaughter see me, and not amount of pleading begging or apologizing is going to change that. I have to learn to live with it and adjust to it. To just go on as if I hadn't just lost the biggest part of me.
My son and his family have judged me found me wanting and not deserving to be a part of their family, this is a fact I just have to learn to live with and accept.
To be honest the embarrassment is just as strong as the hurt and confusion. I am honestly embarrassed to be me. It is ruff to find out you aren't really the good person you thought you were but in fact are a horrible person that is hated just for being you!
So the bottle of booze stays at the liquor store and the pills will go untouched. As ugly and horrible as I am I will just have to learn to deal with that all over again and to face those realities sober and alive.
Now comes the guilt, because after working my way to here, to this spot where I realize I will never be the parent my son wants and I will never be good enough to be a grandma for his children, I have to protect myself, I have to put myself in survivor gear and prevent any more hurt from reaching me, I have to pull the plug, turn my back and move on. I have to let go, forget and heal. I was well on my way to that when I got the request for the meeting that has triggered this reaction in me. I knew it was a mistake, I knew I would walk away hurting harder than I had ever hurt before, but deep down I couldn't let go or give up the hope that I would one day be holding my family close to me again. I had hope, now I don't have that either.
Life isn't always a bowl of ice cream that is for sure, sometimes you just get the coco powder without the sugar.
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