death

January 11, 2024

Reflections in an Imaginary Basin

Long ago, in an age of innocence, I was a huge Harry Potter fan. The books called to me from the end of the Target endcap and once I got past the absurdity of the boy on a broomstick, I fell deeply in love. Of course this was before the true nature of the writer came out, and before I ever valued the lives of my community more than the belief that something (I could never understand) was weird. Yet you live long enough and you see your heroes turn into villains. It’s the curse of humanity. We are deeply flawed creatures, and unless we take efforts to grow and change we will slowly turn into twisted creatures.

I’m not saying that Rowling is a twisted creature, she is just not doing anything to stop it from happening. I guess that is the curse with riches. It corrupts.

There is a particular moment in my favorite book (The Half-blood Prince) of the seven volume series that has stuck with me. I never understood why until recently. I wanted to share it but… I feel like it does two things. One, that it is self serving and makes me sound like a martyr. Two, it makes me look like a monster. There is no space between for me. It is either one or the other.

When I shared it with the boyfriend he told me that it is normal when caring for someone. It is a lot and it weighs on you. There is only so much we can handle as caretakers.

The scene in particular is a chat that Dumbledore has with Harry prior to entering the cave to retrieve Voldemort’s locket. The headmaster tells his bright eyed student that no matter what he says, do not stop. Keep going. It’s cryptic and unnerving until we see it play out, and it lives up to that expectation. It’s when Harry feeds the poisoned concoction from the basin to Dumbledore. He begs and pleads with him to stop, but Harry pushes on because he made a promise that he would keep going.

That is how I feel. Everyday. I am pleading for this all to stop, but I made a promise with myself to keep going. I must. There is no stopping, because this is for the greater good.

While the rest of the Harry Potter saga is derivative, it does have it’s moments that truly shine. This, for me, is one of them. It (as the kids say) lives in my head rent free. Especially the disappointment in realizing that the entire endeavor was for naught. Dumbledore suffered for nothing. He died, for a decoy. Well… he died to fulfill the promise Snape made to help Draco kill him…. but… semantics.

All of this is summed up in the loss of childhood innocence. The series, the loss of a hero, and the death of my spouse. Everything ends at one point or another. Just like that basin of poison. It was only momentary… but you keep drinking “the poison” because you have to.

December 15, 2023

The Soundtrack of My Life – 44- Snowman

Sia has never really been on my radar. Other than the mega hit Chandelier, the only song of hers that I can think of was one teens were using as the soundtrack to their “pity me” videos. Y’know the one’s I’m talking about? It’s where they film themselves holding up pieces of paper with “their story” written in bold marker, while they sob. Teenagers (my younger self included in this statement) are so hilariously over-dramatic. I forget the name of that particular track, but it’s that one.

Regardless, I discovered this song last year while trying to shoehorn the “Christmas spirit” into me. I really wasn’t feeling it, and no amount of “balsam” scent or holiday cookies were doing the trick. Luckily Spotify has a “Christmas Hits” playlist that includes some of the most well-known holiday hits. I’d strike it up while I was driving around for work. When Snowman played from my speakers I was instantly hooked. I couldn’t explain it. I stopped the playlist and put this one song on repeat for the next two days.

Even this year, I had forgotten all about it until I did the exact same thing to drum up some holiday joy. Once again this captivated me like no other song and I was obsessed.

An internet friend of mine once told me that we tend to obsess over songs we identify the most with. I didn’t disagree and still don’t, but I couldn’t quite get why the song about a snowman would consume me so aggressively.

As I like to do, I over-analyzed the lyrics and tried to pick the song apart for it’s true meaning.

Granted… I could just be talking out of my ass as I look for some deeper meaning. For all intents and purposes it could have just been a fun song they wrote to make money. The words just fit the rhyme and it sounded festive. But as an “artist” I refuse to believe that these things are just “commercial.”

What I came to was that this song is about someone who is dying. Why choose a main character that is so fragile. A snowman is made and can only exist in winter. The time they are present is fleeting, but while they’re there you have as much fun with them in the snow, while winter lasts.

The song goes on with the singer pleading with the snowman to not worry about the inevitable, be here for me. This is the one piece of the song that I feel odd about, because it almost feels selfish to me. The singer begs the snowman to not worry and to not “melt,” for them. However, I don’t think that’s was the intention. My assumption is more of a reflection of my own insecurities.

The narrator proves their selflessness in the chorus:

I want you to know that I’m never leaving
‘Cause I’m Mrs. Snow, ’til death we’ll be freezing
Yeah, you are my home, my home for all seasons
So come on, let’s go

They are reaffirming that “I am here, I will be here until the end.”

The lyrics continue on that the two of them can run away and hide out in the north pole, a fictitious place, to escape the melt and continue on forever.

If you haven’t picked up what I’m putting down… It’s about my husband. My “snowman” and me.

This has single-handedly become my all-time favorite Christmas song. I could genuinely listen to it non-stop for days without growing tired of it. Even while the lyrics are somewhat sad if you kind of “break them apart” the music is really selling the hope of stopping the melt and finding happiness in the north pole.

November 29, 2023

If there is no flight, then we shall fight

I never truly understood the concept of “fight or flight” until recently. And when I say that, I mean within the last two weeks. Prior to two therapy sessions ago, my comprehension of the saying was: either “fought for their life” or “ran away to survive” in life threatening situations; like being held up at gun point or rape. It never occurred to me that these moments could occur at any time. It’s a trauma response.

The last few months I have been at home. It began at first as a way to cope with the panic and anxiety I had that my husband was starting hospice care. Since then I have not left the house. For the most part, I stay at home and care for my spouse.

At the start of October I returned to work doing miscellaneous jobs from home, only leaving for (at most) 2 hours to do an inspection. It started off fine, but it has since become a sort of prison. I can’t escape when I want and I can’t do what I want because I have my husband who needs me. The worst thing that could happen is for something permanent to occur while I’m gone.

It is here where the “psychological response” became vividly clear.

My tendency is to run away from situations. I’ve done it since I was a kid. If I was feeling uncomfortable I would just escape to my room, go on a walk or just drive for hours with no destination. Now that I cannot do that because of circumstances and my own unwillingness to leave for fear of what may happen… I have become angry. I fight, but not in the way one would expect. I don’t pick fights verbally or otherwise. No. I just get cold, quiet, passive aggressive or redirect it into something unrelated. It’s the way I alleviate the feeling.

Lately I have started to “fight” with my husband. I try, as quick as I can, to remind myself of the reality, how I really feel. Most of the time it works. Sometimes… it takes a little bit. I will bring up long since dead fights, grievances or misdeeds to justify my rage. Essentially I’m picking a fight. Fortunately it’s just with the shadows of the past, in my own head. The guilt I feel after these response moments is so heavy.

I have yet (and universe willing) have done so only in my head. I know, without a shred of doubt, I would forever hate myself if I were to ever let my thoughts leave the safety of my mind.

There is no conclusion or real resolution I can impart. Just wanted to share this clarity in the hopes of helping someone else. Maybe another reader has yet to get the basic principle. The one that sounds so simple, but lacks any specifics to its deeper meaning. Well, it’s an oversimplification for me at least.

November 15, 2023

Wallowing in my feels

The word overwhelmed does not accurately describe how I feel. If anything it drastically undercuts the reality of my situation. Every day I wake up and wonder if this morning is going to be the one where I find my husband has died in his sleep. When I see that he hasn’t, I pretend like everything is normal when it is anything but considering I have to do everything for him, on top of caring for myself and keeping everyone sheltered and cared for. Then to top all of that off because the government has decided to keep interest rates so high, I have next to no work. So there is little to no money coming in. What money I received as inheritance is now dwindling away. Leaving me with nothing.

Then come the emotions. I feel trapped in my life and I want freedom but that would mean I wish my husband’s demise. Which only makes me feel guilty and horrible for even having these thoughts cross my mind. I just want to scream.

I would never wish this on anyone. It is truly maddening. At times I feel like I am being punished for something. Like I wronged someone somewhere.

The Christian teachings of my youth say it’s god punishing me for turning my back on him. And all I can think is what kind of “loving” god punishes you for not WORSHIPPING him. Which makes this high power sound like a sociopath.

I feel like I am just an observer in my life. I’m not living. I’m surviving, making it just in the nick of time.