42 is not the meaning of life...

by Kylie

I woke up again today, although why I am not sure.
It began with the death in 2006 of my biological grandmother, a nasty piece of work who did her utmost not to acknowledge my existence. Then Rebecca, a beacon of hope to many, who made it to 30 before the cure for leukaemia killed her. Then biological grandfather, not nasty but certainly in denial about who I was. Then my angel in tabby colours, after 17 years of daily love and the most consistent source of love and affection in my life. Then my adoptive mother, in feb 2010. Much as she truly hurt me with her arctic behaviour, it was an awful death and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Then my best friend, the glorious melissa, on my birthday in 2011, another cancer death, finally followed by adoptive father in January this year. And all that while doing a very stressful job in the public service, and completing a phd on my own in a city far away with hardly any support. Iadd a back injury and diabetes too, probably from all that stress.

So here are my questions. Most well meaning people say to dwell on the good memories of your family. Easier said than done. The golden rules in my family were 'Affection shall not be displayed', 'questions shall not be asked' and 'feelings shall be repressed'. I might be wealthy and well educated now, but Mother Teresa was right when she said that the greatest poverty was feeling unloved.

Just in case anyone was going to trot the furphy about adoptees being lucky...think about this. Do you feel lucky because your mother died when you were little? That is, in effect, what happens to babies 'given up' for adoption. Would you feel lucky and joyous at the thought of having to bury four parents? I rest my case.

Everything I thought would come to me in a post thesis life, everything post poned for the apparently greater good of achieving the pinnacle of academic success, seems pointless and empty. I can't bestir myself for much. Occasionally I leave the new house (yes, I did what they say not to, move house). But I couldn't bear to stay in the house of death. Now I a, still the same screwed up misery guts in much nicer and more convenient surroundings. I'm rich now , comparatively speaking, and can afford the therapy, except that my therapist has cancer and has stopped working, and now I have to through the exhausting process of finding someone new.

Which means I have to get out of my comfy bed, I suppose.

My sister and I have a non suicide pact, made before everyone started dying. Having tried it before, I know I am not capable of killing of myself. Instead I just wake up each morning vaguely disappointed that I didn't die in my sleep. Then the cat comes to say hello and ask for breakfast, which is just enough to get my feet to the floor. Saved by the cat, again...

Comments for 42 is not the meaning of life...

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Aug 06, 2012
Thank you
by: Anonymous

Hey Doreen, how dreadful that you lost your beloved, and how amazing that you in the midst of that you can manage to find time to be kind to a stranger on the opposite side of the world. You are clearly the proof of your story.

I'm afraid I can't write more now, I've started to cry and I can't afford to because I have to front up to work in a few minutes. But goddess bless you. I hope you're not offended by that, but I can't do a male god.

Aug 04, 2012
42 is not the meaning of life.....
by: Doreen U.K.

Kylie I am so sorry for the many losses in your life to death. But also for all the other losses e.g. feeling unloved. Not being allowed to express yourself, not having your feelings validated, not being allowed to become the person you were meant to be. I could go on and on. I don't want to bore you. You have a lot of grieving to do. You have a right to how you feel since you have expressed so well how deeply hurt you have been in life and how you don't want life anymore. I can identify with some of what you say. I went into therapy for a good few years. I tried suicide often. I used to get disappointed that I woke up. I HATED LIFE. Counselling saved me and gave me back my life. Kylie I am sorry for another loss is your counsellor. PLEASE! PLEASE! Persevere and get another counsellor till you find the right one. I went into therapy very skeptical and cynical. When it worked It was the best feeling ever. I could breathe for the very first time. Kylie you have been badly wounded by life. It will take a long long time for you to come through your pain. It will be worth it in the end. I don't think we can resolve everything in therapy. But you can move forward to a healthier place where you will embrace LIFE. Life up to now hasn't had much to offer you. With the right help you can make something valuable out of your life. I can understand how abuse in families can cause one to be so unloved and hated that they just EXIST. They don't want to live anymore. If I didn't have God in my life. I wouldn't be here today. I would have committed suicide. God saved me from suicide. The best thing that happened to me was getting married. So many people tried to break us up. IT HURT. Don't think anyone wanted me to be happy. My husband the love of my life died 12 weeks ago today. From cancer. I got to thinking that all the lack of love, abuse, and emotional problems in life is like a cancer. only it doesn't kill us. We suffer the pain and have to go on living with this emotional cancer. THANK GOD FOR THERAPY. IT WORKS. Kylie it is painfull but do the counselling/therapy. You will be FREE someday. Life will get better. Put God in your life. He is the only one who won't let you down. HE WILL LOVE YOU LIKE NO OTHER. TRUST GOD!!!.

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