I read Post Secret every Monday morning, since I usually take Sundays off from the internet. When I opened PostSecret today, I got a heart-lurching feeling when I read the secret pictured here.
That secret hits closer to home than just about any other secret I have ever read. My grandma died very suddenly last year. I was completely blindsided by this. She had been very sick about 10 months prior to her death, but she had completely recovered from that. Then, she started throwing up so they put her in the hospital to fix her dehydration from that and the next thing we knew, she was dead. I never even visited her when she was in the hospital that time.
When that happened, it opened up a great gaping hole in my faith in the stability of my life. If that could happen, anything could happen and anyone could just drop dead at any time. The rug could be pulled out from under me, my house could be flattened from a tornado, I could suddenly lose my job, one of my kids could run out in front of a car, anything can happen. And it's a scary, disconcerting thought. I've been tightrope walking over an abyss all my life and never knew it.
Many of my regular readers know that my dad has been battling with kidney disease for quite some time. Seven years ago, I went to take something up to my husband's work and my dad was with me. Everyone at his work was buzzing that I was driving around with some good looking man in my car. Seven years ago, my dad was healthy and filled with vitality and looked young enough to start rumors that I was running around on Mr. Ivy.
On Friday, someone I know said they saw me driving on Nolensville Road with some old man in my car. That old man was my dad. And the person who made the remark has seen my dad before on many occasions although not recently. They didn't recognize him, he looks so sick and old and tired. It was a kick in the stomach.
And that's my worst fear of all, when that hole opened up and I realized I was tightrope walking over the abyss. My dad could die at any minute and I might never have the chance to say goodbye. The thought of that makes me not want to continue living. I don't think I'd kill myself, I'd hate for my kids to grow up without a mom. But with this fear, this paralyzing fear that has me living every day with a shadow over me, I'm only operating as a shell of my former self.
So, I understand this secret completely. And this post isn't my "Oh, hai, guyz, I'm gunna kill myself!!" post, either. No, this secret made me realize something. I've been tightrope walking over this abyss my entire life. I just didn't realize it until now. I can't keep living under this shadow of fear. I've got to start living. Sure, things could happen at any time and I could be blindsided. I've just got to steel myself up against that and go. Life will go on, with or without me, and I'd rather it be with me. Wish me luck.
Add to:
That secret was incredibly potent. I saw that yesterday and had to go back and reread it at least twice.
I'm glad you see where you're going, and I'm glad you found something to bring it into focus for you.
I hope the person who wrote the secret finds a catalyst too.
Posted by: jag | May 12, 2008 1:15:42 PM
From everything I have read from you, you have the inner strength to do this. Welcome to your new life Ivy, I wish you the best of luck!
Posted by: Kellybax | May 12, 2008 2:24:39 PM
oh Ivy...I can relate to that secret and your post so much. When I was growing up, I always said that if my daddy ever died, I would not be able to go on...I couldn't live...I'd kill myself.
Then when that day tragically happened, I went into shock and "autopilot" to get the logistical things done. I came back to Nashville and kept pushing through life, putting my grief on the back shelf of my mind. Finally, at about 6 months out, I started having panic attacks, because sometimes our minds just can't handle bottling such intense emotions up and it has to come out someway.
I went to grief counseling and got involved with MADD (my dad was killed by a drunk driver) as a way to channel my grief into something productive. It really helped a lot.
Still to this day, though, I deal with tinges of fear about the frailty of life. When I can't reach my daughter or a loved one who was supposed to contact me at a certain time, my mind automatically thinks the worst. I've had to try and deal with that, too, because it isn't healthy to live in fear. Fear doesn't resolve anything and it doesn't prevent life from happening as it will.
Grief is a process that is unique to each and every person...there is no prescribed amount of time or manner in which a person should grieve.
It has been 15 years since my daddy died, and I've come such a long way and have become so much stronger through the years...but I do still have moments...And you know what? That's ok. I'll be ok...
And so will you, my friend.
*hugs*
Posted by: Ginger | May 12, 2008 6:08:19 PM