So, I now have been seeing Dr. Reyes for over a month and I have never felt more raw and rock bottom than ever before.
- I thought I had this.
- I thought I was done with the “daddy grief” and “daddy guilt”.
- I thought I was ok.
- I thought I had no more “coulda, shoulda, woulda’s”.
- I had accepted my dad, my mortality, my repercussions.
- I thought I was no longer avoiding.
I was terribly wrong.
So I have been made to see inside myself. Deep. Dark. Twisty. Guilty. Self. Dr. Reyes dug deep and pulled out of me all the shit I’ve been avoiding.
Yep, I’ve been lying to myself and I didn’t even know it. I’m still avoiding. I’m still dwelling. I’ve still not accepted all the repercussions to what I created inside myself when my daddy died on me. Yes. See. You can see it. I can see it now. It’s the “I CREATED” and “DADDY DIED ON ME,”.
So Dr. Reyes gave me homework 3 weeks ago to ask me to define: ACCEPTANCE
She told me “Acceptance does not mean approval!” She told me to write, draw, paint, whatever, to define Acceptance. This is what I came up with:
Yeah. I know. I have zero painting talent. I at least tried to think out of the box and do something I wasn’t comfortable with to challenge myself. DONT JUDGE! It could be worse. It could be the beautiful toothbrush holder I made my parents when I took Ceramics my junior year at Point Loma High (GO POINTER BASEBALL – WOOT WOOT!).
The toothbrush holder that I so beautifully crafted, burned in the Cedar fires. I’m sure, to this day, my mother cries just a little every time she goes to brush her teeth! LMAO!)
At least I tried with the paintings!
So, back to my homework. I gave it to her and we discussed it. And she gave me an even deeper assignment. Define it and explain the ripple effects from the minute of my dads death and the consequences of it.
Dad didn’t die on ME. He simply died. Not my fault. Not moms fault. Not anyone’s fault. It just was how it was supposed to be.
When he died, I had nothing. My life was over. I didn’t know how I can live in a world without my dad in it!
I woke up that following morning and just started drinking. I drank myself all the way to end-stage liver failure. AKA, I’ll die without a liver transplant.
But this part of the story, you all have already read about
So let’s talk about all the REPERCUSSIONS that letting my dads death take control of my dark and twisty life.
- Drinking earlier in the day
- Drinking all day, all night, anytime
- Letting the ranch go
- Ignoring friends requests to go out
- Placing myself in a bubble and giving up on life in general: couldn’t work, gave up on my life of being like my dad in forensics, didn’t work, didn’t go anywhere
- TV all the time
- Crying, crying, crying
- Woe is me, hamster wheel
- Feeling sick
- Gaining weight
- No menses for years and not wondering or caring why
- Bed to couch to wine to couch to bed with wine. On a hamster wheel.
- Face and eye coloring became jaundiced and I didn’t care.
- Knowing something was wrong with me, terribly wrong, and hiding it from MY MOM, EVERYONE!
- Ignoring medical insurance and doctors.
- Just plain letting myself go.
So now let’s talk about the repercussions and ripple effects caused by the above, which in turn, caused my current diagnosis and the “DEATH THAT BECOMES ME”.
- After being without proper levels of oxygen for 2 days practically incoherent (no memory of any of it) and in an awakened coma, was damned near practically dead on my living room floor.
- Found by my mother airlifted from my ranch to Sharp Grossmont Hospital trauma where I was placed in a coma and strapped to my bed, apparently.
- Woke up and was told, while crying, that I was dying. My doctor wasn’t even sure I’d live a week at that point. Then it went to another week.. And so on…
- Moving from plain Hepatology department into the Liver Transplant Center
- Alcoholic Cirrosis of the Liver
- End-Stage Liver Failure
- Hepatic Encephalopathy (memory loss and speech impairment caused by extremely high levels of ammonia in my liver that makes me behave like I have a small form of Dementia)
- TIPS SHUNT placed in my liver to help relieve my portal hypertension and esophageal varices
- HX of Portal Hypertension
- Periferal neuropathy
- Situational Anciety/OCPD
- Weekly doctor visits of various kinds
- Constant blood tests
- Still living in a bubble. Crying. Missing my father. Blaming myself. Believing I’m a failure
- People feeling sorry for me or always wanting to help me
- The digging out of the holes I created
- The list goes on…
So I sit here and try to get motivation to keep on trucking along. This is a daily task for me. I have deep rooted guilt, grief and darkness.
I’m living just fine with my life, however, in all other aspects.
Life has returned and life has moved forward in a positive direction. I’m proud of the changes I’ve made. I’m proud of the work I’m doing. I’m proud of MYSELF!
Thank God I’ve met Dr. Dara Reyes. My dark and twisty is being pulled out of me. It’s painful and I fight it, but I need to figure all this out, get the puzzle of my life put back together, LIVE and….
Like there is no tomorrow,
In my underpants!!!