The Hole in the Ceiling

I was sitting in the shrink's last week on my usual day at my usual hour, telling him, yet another story about my family.  He was laughing so hard that tears were falling from his face when he said, "You have to write a book and that has to be the name, The Hole in the Ceiling." I'm not up to a book but tonight I decided to blog.

I am the 4th of 8. I married the 5th of 8, who died suddenly of cancer at 43 making me a widow with two young boys at 40, I remarried at 44 became the wicked stepmother of two, and of course that's just a part of the story.

Don't get me wrong, I'm living happily ever after.  I just have so many stories to tell, knowing where to begin is the challenge.  I frequently tell the shrink that my life is worse than a cheap novel, no one could make up this stuff; it just happens to me.

I may as well start with the shrink.  Dr. T or as I refer to him, "The Great Tishone" is the best present I have ever given myself.  Who else would listen to me on a weekly basis?  I started seeing him when I became extremely depressed after my husband died, when I became the "weeping widow."  I was aware that I was depressed.   Guess what?  Death is depressing.  Grief is depressing.  However, I had a four year old and a 12 year old and I had to pull myself together.  I could not completely fall apart so I got the name of the shrink that everyone at my school used.

Can you imagine how boring it would be to sit and listen to a weeping widow week after week after week?  I could.  I really felt sorry for the guy.  Dr. T. has allergies and when he takes an antihistamine, he cannot keep his eyes open.  The poor man would sit in the most uncomfortable chair in the room to try to keep awake.  One day he actually fell asleep.  To be honest, I couldn't be upset with him; I was boring him to death.  I started bringing him coffee from then on, so at least he had something to focus on besides me.

I started my sessions not knowing what to talk about.  It was awful to have to tell the story of the most devastating thing that ever happened to me.  I would get a panicky feeling in my chest and my head would be flooded with questions I didn't have the answers to. How do I go on?  I didn't plan for this.  This wasn't part of the plan. What is my plan?  I don't have a plan. Talking with Dr. T. allowed me to let some of it out.  The more I spoke about my loss, the easier it became.

Dr. T. did a lot of listening. He listened and then dropped a few pearls of wisdom.  The one that stuck was, "When people go through horrible things and can still see positives from the experience, those are the people who will make it."  I decided right then and there that was the one I was sticking with.

Shortly after Rick died, I decided that the best revenge against Death was living a Great life.  I meant it too.  I refused to let death take my joy, take my optimism, take me; I was going to fight back.  It was a long, hard road to find me and when I found me, I was a new Jane.