A Breakthrough

I learned the other day that I can make emotional breakthrough's with my grief, even though I'm not paying for therapy anymore.

It was simple in such a complex way.  I'd had a stressful day at work and I was grumpy over a series of events I had no control over.  I got home and pulled four ticks off.  The itty bitty, tiny ones, the one's "they" say you should worry about.  And I got sad.  Really sad.  Guess who would come home from work and search through my hair, look at my back and determine what was freckle and what was tick?  There is just no way to find these little buggers on your own, even if I could rotate my head like the girl in The Exorcist.  Before Jeff, my coworker and roommate ARD and I would spend time looking through each other's hair like monkeys.  But she lives an hour away now and I work with two men, who I like, but not enough to ask them to do a tick check on me.  It's kinda personal.  So then I got to thinking "Fine!  If I get Lyme's disease it's all Jeff's fault."

It took about ten seconds for my heart to catch up.  I was sad and feeling really sorry for myself so I had a pity party.  I am proud of myself for not self-medicating with food or drink.  And while I was physically defeated to the point I couldn't exercise that night I did what I needed to do and I reached out to a few friends. It was during those chats that I had my epiphany.

I was sad because I had depended on Jeff.  I hit these moments when my grief overwhelms me, drags me under the water, and it's triggered by something I depended on Jeff to do.

If you know me well enough, you get that.  If you don't.  Let me tell you something about myself:  I don't rely on others and I don't ask for help.  I once drove myself to the hospital with a concussion, broken nose and an arm broken in two places after being hit by a car because I was to damn suborn to ask for help.  And if you think that is bad, you should hear some of my really good stories.  I can't give an inch, not even if it's for my own good. 

I've said it before, but I'll say it again.  I don't know why it was different with Jeff.  My father said it best, at my wedding no less, that he sat up and took notice of Jeff after I failed to "rip his face off." That the daughter he knew and loved would have done so [over some minor infraction Jeff committed].  He knew then that Jeff was the keeper.

I know that my previous relationships never worked out because I struggled to be free of the necessity to rely on someone and love just doesn't work that way.  Somehow, I allowed myself to depend on Jeff,  rely on Jeff and he made me weak.  Love makes you weak in some ways but it makes you stronger in others.  It's a trade-off, a risk, a gamble.  My gamble just didn't pay out and now I am reaping the consequences.

I wonder know, if I know what the trigger is, if it will make it any easier going forward when I encounter something I depended on Jeff for.  Or not. 

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife