17 December 2013

As the Whistle blows


When I hear that whistle blowing, I hang my head and cry ~ Johnny Cash, Foulsom Prison Blues

At the top of our road, here in this place of coldness that we have decided to leave come the spring, the train goes by, it is 9kms up my road, but yet I can still hear that whistle blow, and when it does the line from that song replays in my head and many times I do hang my head and cry.  

It is in those moments that the crushing loneliness of this place, and these people hits home and makes my heart feel like it will explode from the pressure and then the only thing I can do is allow the tears to flow as I go about my day, cooking, cleaning and cleansing as the tears just roll.  It makes me wonder how anyone that has ever moved away from their family handled the pain, for me it is only intensifying the longer it is since I have seen them.  My kids, my heart....and I had to leave them behind as much for me as for them.  They are not little ones, that one is with me, they are the older ones, that were trying to start their own lives.....somehow I thought it would be easier than this.  The wonderful invention of the internet meant that we could talk to each other everyday, but it has become not enough, life gets in the way, and some moments just cannot be captured on facebook, some conversations become difficult and well hurt adds to the loneliness.

Yesterday was a particularly bad day for me, the day before started the wonderful rolling ball that just was too much......flashbacks to a time when a man standing behind me was a bad thing, moments in time that somehow intertwined with my current reality, in a flash I turned around and hauled off and yep hit him in the chest, instantly snapping back to this moment and seeing the eyes on my husband who suddenly realized that inadvertently he had brought back some long hidden memory of abuse.....I am such a lucky witch that he understood, that he forgave me and held me while I cried in his arms, the arms that make me feel safe and protected.....I cried for hours as much because of my own feelings of guilt having done that to him as the memory it invoked.  Some things are just so much better remaining hidden in the recess' of my mind.  

This snowball of pain and release continued, when trying to speak to one of those children that I miss so much my words were not heard in the way they were typed, at first hurt and angry at my child I walked away from my computer frustrated....then I had to stop and think and the more I did, the more I realized I have caused this situation......she reacted to who I was when I left Ontario, when I walked away because I could not deal with all the pain there anymore....when I could not deal with who I had become since my father passed.  I was a tired, angry, I should say very angry mess.....when he died I suddenly took over all his responsibilities as well as my own, and within 7 months also a new baby to raise, this all combined for a very exhausted and tired me.....the more things changed around me, with my father gone my mother relied even more heavily on me as did some of my adult children, the more they did the more I had to bury my pain and fears, the angrier I became....it basically got to a point that in order to function I had to steel my will and keep going, it meant there weren't many smiles, not alot of tenderness and a whole lot of feeling in constant defence of me and all of them against everyone else......of course to a certain extent I had become a type of orphan of sorts....my fathers family really well pulled away, now that he was gone they didn't have to pretend to care or extend themselves out of their own comfort zones.....and by no means did anyone even notice the pain I was in......there is obviously still anger for me over this subject, not making excuses for myself just recognizing it for what it is.........

Now almost 4 years later in this place, everyday as that train whistle blows I am not the same person I was when I left.....I have let the defences down here, there is nothing but us here, there is no outside love, or familial circle that we are a part of, truth is we don't fit in here.......it is akin to visiting a place in another time from your own, like when we drove through Quebec and entered New Brunswick we passed through some invisible time line that took us back about 25yrs by Ontario standards.....people like me don't fit in and are seen as evil just by drawing our own breath.....it has given me lots of time to look at myself clearly and see my own faults, crushing loneliness can do that to a person....I spend alot of time talking about how I was abused, well this time has taught me how even though I tried I failed to a certain extent to not pass down some of that.....I am so sorry that I wasn't more aware and didn't see what I was doing then, I do now and I am very very sorry.

I wish for all those that I hurt peace, healing and love....someday for me when that whistle blows I hope to not feel this way....but then again I won't be listening to it very much longer, our days in this place and house are numbered.....anger, hurt, abuse and heartbreak have not been my friends but they were my companions for the majority of my life, but as my husband says the years without them are slowly gaining and will eventually overtake them, hopefully then the flashbacks to those moments will end and then can be replaced with flashbacks to happy moments....A witch can always hope....

1 comment:

  1. I was recently diagnosed as having Delayed Onset Complex PTSD... I read your story and know that you too can find a lot of help and insights... including the help of SSRI's that will settle your adrenals that are likely as burnt out as mine were... I take a low dose now, its got no side effects and has really narrowed down the span of my depression and other symptoms like the tourettes of aches and pains that I suffered for years unknowing...
    I wish someone had told me I had PTSD before I jacked up 70thou in student debt getting a degree in womens and indigenous studies or that I was triggering myself the entire time at university... so many things I would have done differently... I hope you find this helpful. Don't give up looking for medical professionals that specialize in PTSD... i have a DR and a therapist that are wonderful and its changed my life so much... so so so much.

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