Monthly Archives: August 2020

7 STAGES OF GRIEF

Someone recently said to me, trying to reassure my pain I am toiling daily to move through by saying, “God won’t give you more than you can handle,” I say, “Fuck that!” Although my sister was a staunch Christian and all times attempted to live her life by “THE Word” she definitely was given more than she could handle and I too feel like this, the 4th of 6 familial deaths since April of 2015, sure as hell seems like more than I can currently handle. Those who have known me for ages know that I have triumphed through much in the last 3-4 decades of my life, managing to combat the suicidal depression I lived with for all that time, coming through the other side, but this is so very different for reasons I cannot explain. Many have said, “I cannot imagine what you are going through.” And I tend to agree with that statement, no, no you cannot and I would only wish this sort of pain on some that have intentionally wronged me in this lifetime. I’ll not be naming any names at this moment, but a few do come to mind. One reason I am making a concerted effort to stay away from humans right now is that I know for certain the truth in the statement “Hurt people hurt people.” I am not into intentionally causing another innocent human harm right now due to the pain I am experiencing.

In an effort to move through all of this, I have had to rely on the professionals in my life, mainly my EMDR trauma therapist in Buffalo, NY and my counselor from my recovery program in South Carolina back in 2017. I am happy to say that AG and I had such a wonderful connection that we have been able to eliminate that client/patient privilege crap and remain close friends. Thank you AG for being the amazing, brilliant, loving and compassionate human that you are!!! I’m SO grateful for you in my life!

Yesterday morning, I had an EMDR session scheduled with my therapist in Buffalo attempted via some lame video conferencing app. Although I attempted to troubleshoot the issue before we actually connected screens, this is the 2nd time that the microphone simply did not work. We spent 15-20 minutes (most of which I was having a complete fucking meltdown) trying to get the technology to work. I don’t think anyone should ever have to do therapy sessions by video, but it is all many of us have in the time of covid. I need human interaction right now, but there are so few who I actually feel safe with. Since Pam’s body was discovered 2 weeks ago, my friends list has intentionally and significantly shrunk again. That just has to be AOK with me. I have long been into quality of friendships vs quantity anyway. Currently, I am ever so grateful that I have my Mona and my professionals to help during this critical time. Some days it is all I can do to just keep us fed, watered and rested. I have had sleep issues my entire life and this time is no exception to that affliction. Thank goodness and mother nature that fresh air, sunshine and a frigid mountain lake for the WTFU swim are abundant where we currently are situated. From this point going forward, there will be no one allowed in my life who makes lame excuses for not being present for me as I have been for SO many in their times of hardship and need over the years. The 4 word question… HOW CAN I HELP? is all I need to hear from so-called friends during this time. Not that I have an answer for anything exact at this stage of the game, but knowing someone has the good sense of decency, care and compassion to ask, keeps them on my list. You know who you are my beloved die hard amigos. <3 <3

Over the last two weeks, the emotions have been paralyzing most times and have run no gamut other than immeasureable sadness and rage… nothing short of either. While having my meltdown yesterday morning about lousy technology, the housekeeping and management of my current brief hotel stay knocked and asked if everything was ok? Damn, if that ain’t one loaded question currently, I don’t know what is! I assured them that I would be ok and I know eventually I will…. but WHEN is the question? If I had a job/job right now, I know I would be being directed to just go to work. Yes, just go distract yourself, Sue. Just get on with your life as “normal,” right? I am ever so happy I do not have one of those “control of the masses” idiotic things like a “job” right now. My immediate “work” is to stay alive and to stay healthy first and foremost.

These intense emotions that have arisen bring me directly back to Barb’s suicide. Her final attempt of 3 was the one that ultimately took her out of this physical realm. The first was thwarted in October of 2014 by someone who I once considered a best friend since 3rd grade. Yes that someone, (completely against my adamant plea – the only time in my life ever begging on my knees) DEMANDED that crisis services be called. Yes, while I was on my knees, she was screeching in her already consumed daily post-work, 5-6 Michelob Ultras (or Lites cuz you know that alcoholics need to keep their sex appeal) tone – “I am trained for this! This is my job!” I attempted to explain to her begging that THIS was not her job, that THIS WAS MY SISTER not one of her immature, no life experience students she financially counsels and that Barb was taking her own life because she did not want to live in her vaccine damage ridden body any longer – NOT due to mental health issues – two totally different things. Still, that bitch dialed the number, and they on the other of the line forced me to give them Barb’s address. The Crisis Services team raced on over to her home, busted down her door and dragged her to the hoosegow at ECMC hospital in Buffalo. At that time, Barb had been on a series of medications to cease her tremors and keep her mildly sedated, Ativan being one of them. Those medications were not administered to her for almost 60 hours while she waited in the hallway for a bed, and after all those hours of waiting when they FINALLY got her into the psyche ward and situated, she had a massive seizure, fell down and busted up her shoulder into multiple pieces requiring major surgery to repair. Yup, thanks there old pal, just what my poor sister needed… for you to do your ever so important “job.” Here’s wishing your ignorant ass massive suffering in what’s left of your “functioning alcoholic” life. Yup, I can imagine if you are reading this now, you are well into your daily post work beer or wine induced coma, only to wake up and do it all again tomorrow. Groundhog day much? Such a fulfilling life, no? Yes, I have ZERO tolerance for alcohol users and abusers any longer. As Barb always said… “Alcohol, the last legal and MOST dangerous drug. It only makes you fat and stupid.” Amen to that, sister B! Needless to say, two plus years and two attempts later, Barb finally got her wish, Septemeber 28, 2017, the very night I had returned to Buffalo from my virgin sobriety journey with Mona to Nova Scotia. The details of all of this are far more graphically depicted in my upcoming book.

Back to the current ANGER…. Many people have stated (and left my life as well) over the years due to my so-called anger, stating that they are afraid of it – etc etc. I recently have come to realize exactly from where that anger/rage stems. If it wasn’t for that powerful energy of anger, I have no idea at times how I would have survived until now. Pam’s tragic passing has brought forth yet another piece of anger because her death was definitely preventable. I am rip shit angry at the fat ass Dr Capote in Buffalo, NY at the Dent, who kept dispensing the drugs freely. Yup, just keep those big pharma companies in business and your pockets lined, Doc. One day you will get yours as well if I have anything to do/say about it. Two sisters deceased now due to writing scripts for benozs like they were candy. Pam knew all about what Benzodiazepines had done to her brain and had desperately tried to get off of them for the last 4 years. I hope one day as is currently with happening with opioids, that Dr’s are able to be sued for abuse of benzo scripts. I will be first in line with both Barb and Pam’s names on the list.

Let me add a few names to the rip shit list of late… a couple of C U Next Tuesday’s… Sharon Frochen… the “recovering?” meth addict who recently threatened to “bury me.” Nice recovery there, Chica. And less recently, the beloved ever so important ex-employee of Yoko Ono, Ms JAP herself, Ellen Goldin. And last but not least, earlier this year on my journey, a person I truly thought was a kindred Spirit and best friend, Barbara Sklar who lied to me over and over again until she was finally busted. Here’s hoping gals that our paths NEVER cross again in this lifetime. There’s just some people that do not deserve the time of day and you three will now exit my thought process on ending this paragraph. Oh, and if you seek revenge for my calling you out here, feel free to write your own book.

Surely this anger will pass, but in the interim, I am staying out of civilization’s way or else there might be a casualty or two. By the way, if any of you have not seen the new movie on Prime with Olympia Dukakis entitled, “Cloudburst,” Stella is my new Goddess figure and I am going to be channeling her until further notice to get the ever so ignorant riffraff out of my way in this life o’ mine. Yes, this is MY life that I intend to keep on living RX and alcohol free in honor of both of my beloved sisters gone waaaaay too soon. I’ll be back soon in more optimum condition once this rage moves through me and onward. Because ONWARD and FORWARD is the only place to go in a life that has been riddled with as much trauma and sorrow as mine and my beloved mostly deceased family has had to endure. ONWARD.

Posted in Alcoholism, Barbara A Ruof, DEATH, EMDR, ETERNAL LIFE, GRIEF, IGNORANCE, MENTAL ILLNESS, RECOVERY, SPIRITUALITY, Suicide, TRAUMA Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , |