Discord Pt. 1

Did you ever have something happen to you in your life that was so horrid, so hurtful or shameful that you were afraid to tell anyone? So instead of talking to anyone you bury that thing deep inside. Anytime the thoughts of it come up, you run from them. Deep inside the pain grows from that “thorn” being buried there. So you turn to other things seeking to alleviate that pain. For each of us it’s a different thing, some use alcohol, some drugs, some sex, some food, some use online relationships. Some turn to work, some retreat inward, some become bullies and others just give up. Your life is in total discord.
For some there are a series of thorns that happen in our lives. Anytime we happen to bump those old wounds, we hit the nerve buried under that ole thorn and the pain begins anew. There are times when we may say ok, I have to get over that; and we pull that old thing up and finally talk about it and think ok, I’m free from it. Well the thing is, sometimes even if we manage to get the thorn out, we have built up “scar tissue” from where the thorn resided for so long. Those scars, manifested as thought and behavior patterns are not so easily swept away. It takes time and much diligence to change what has been so long established.
One thing I’ll use as an example of a thorn in my life was the loss of my second child through a miscarriage. Now to some who are already thinking oh big deal, it wasn’t a baby. To those people I’d say, it’s just that type mentality that gave me my thorn.
Let me explain some things about me…
I had, as I mentioned in an earlier blog, never dated other than a couple times. I ended up the church babysitter caring for the babies of all the staff members that came and; loved each child as if it were my own only to be brokenhearted when they moved away taking bits of my heart each time.
I saw my friends all getting married and having families of their own. Yes, I was genuinely happy for them, but more broken inside each time as the loneliness grew more and more intense. As I neared my thirtieth birthday that ache deep inside became almost more than I could bear.
At work one night a man asked to take me out. He was very obviously under the influence of alcohol and I laughed and said he wouldn’t even remember asking the next day. Well he returned the next day and asked again, sober this time. Two days later we did meet and as I followed him and his mother to the campground that they lived at, I had a war going on in my mind. One part of me was saying ‘what kind of family LIVES in a campground?’ and ‘You have no idea who and what kind of people these folks are! How do you know you won’t end up in a side ditch tomorrow?’ the other part of me simply said, ‘I cannot bear to be alone anymore, I have to try something, even if I die trying.’
That was the beginning of the life I lived for far too close to twenty years. In that time we got married and had a beautiful daughter. She is a special needs child that has had many health and development problems. At times she has had so much going on that it has been a challenge yet she has given more love than I have words to express. I’d never ever wish those years totally away because of her. We were originally told she was brain damaged and would never walk or talk but simply be a vegetable all her life. We were also told never to have children again.
When she was 4 is when I found I was pregnant again. The pregnancy was a surprise yet I was ecstatic although concerned. At about 3 months I was put to bed with complications. I had been ordered to bed for two months prior to the first child’s birth. Now let me tell you, I rejoiced in each pregnancy. I had long wanted children of my own. I talked to those babies and sang to them while I carried them inside me. Some might think it odd but as I lay and rested I also rocked gently as I sang and talked. Is it any wonder that my daughter is so deeply touched my music? I think not! I believe she heard and gained her love of music even while I rocked and sang to her inside my womb.
Nearing the end of my fifth month I lost that second baby. It broke my heart. Just the medical part was traumatic enough. Because I didn’t deliver the baby on my own, I had to have a DNC and even the paperwork had ‘missed abortion’ written all over it. That ripped even deeper at my heart. I had some people offer condolences but few. My husband at that time, [thankfully my ex now] refused to speak of it and if I cried when he was around he simply left. His mother basically just told me to get over it. I’d never held it so it wasn’t a real baby. I couldn’t cry around my daughter because she would always get so upset.
So I learned to deal in my own way. I put a notice in the paper remembering “BJ” as I called the baby. I talked to others over the years that lost babies. I used the pain to help others thinking that it was enough. I also found I couldn’t hold or be around babies for many years. I will also admit to something that horrified me about myself in those years. I had some family members that lost several babies and as we got reports of those losses yes, I was broken hearted for them, but as the grandfather of those babies made little coffins for them and they had funerals, part of my grieving mind was jealous. I wondered if I was insane to be jealous of such a thing. I realize now that it was the closure that those families were given. Nobody would tell them to get over it; nobody would tell them don’t talk about it, or don’t cry.
In September of last year for the first time, I was encouraged to open up and talk about that loss and allowed to cry it out for the first time thus pulling out the thorn. Then the man, who is the best friend I ever had in my life as well as my soul mate, gifted me with something that became the healing balm. He held a little memorial celebration commemorating that little life as well as the lives of others we had lost. It was the key to unlocking the grief that I had so long buried.
I have to wonder if it wasn’t also the turning point in the lessening of pain for him as well. He had lost someone, a love that had been lost to cancer several years ago. The anniversary of that loss has just passed and miraculously it was not a day of mourning for him, for the first time. I’m so glad.
For me, it was the pulling out of those splinters and allowing the grief to come as well as turning that pain into celebrating that allowed the healing to happen.
There are many old splinters and scars that I have been working on in my life. It’s not an easy or painless process and if not for the love and support of my dearest friend I’m not sure how far I’d have gotten. He not only encourages me but teaches me of the ways he has removed the thorns in his own life. With every day I have to be more thankful and appreciative of the man he is and the dear friend he has become.
Thank you Ed, I love you dearly.