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womanofthelight

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Everything posted by womanofthelight

  1. My Dear Friend -- Thank you for your kind, cogent, lyrical response. You have been a constant source of comfort to me here, and I thank you with all my heart. Love, Marianna
  2. Thinking about my late brother and how, after a number of emotional injuries, he refused to hear or acknowledge the word "love." I, among many others over the years, must have injured him somehow--we all did--but he had no vocabulary, no communication skills to inform loved ones of how we/they may have hurt him. So he cut people off who hurt him, and based upon his will, I can see how small his world had become. He buried himself in music (a professional musician) and Shakespeare. Why did he have to suffer so in leaving this world????? Pancreatic cancer. WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY Even if he didn't love me any more, or most people any more, why did his life have to end that way? I want to die. I want to be where he is. This is just too painful. He cut me off 6 years ago and I was afraid to fight for him. To get him back. I was too afraid of rejection. Oh, Paul! If you only knew how much I loved you! If you'd only accepted hearing it so that I could ask you what I'd done to turn you away from me. If only I'd had more courage. Oh, this self hatred will **** me. "Death, death; O amiable lovely death! . . . Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Thou hate and terror to prosperity, And I will kiss thy detestable bones . . . And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust And be a carrion monster like thyself; Come, grin on me, and I will think though smilest And buss thee as thy wife. Misery's love, O! Come to me!" Wm. Shakespeare Constance from 'King John'
  3. Voting next week!!!!!
  4. Thank you for your kind and earnest wishes, but it's not your job to make me happy. That task falls to each of us, for ourselves. Love to you, Sober, WOTL
  5. Of course you're worth it, dear. Also, I found an interesting quote by Virginia Woolf, considering the way she died. "We insist, it seems, on living." I think we're all members of the "How-long-am-I going-to-last-with-this-pain?" club. Or something like that.
  6. Of course they do, silly girl! You're not paranoid at all. (God, I hope you think that's funny. That's how it was meant. No disrespect!) xoxo, WOTL
  7. I wonder, though: would you have chastised yourself for not even having tried to take that other road?
  8. I . . . don't know how to recover from the actual physical loss of my brother. It's like . . . when Wile E. Coyote runs through what looks like the desert. But in truth, Road Runner has (somehow!) managed to set in place a huge backdrop through which Wile E. chases him, and in doing so falls off a cliff, leaving a hole in the landscape that is the exact shape of Wile E. There's a hole in the world where Paul was and it's too late to catch him before the fall . . . And then there's the turn of the knife . . . His will states that he's leaving his assets to his "real family" of friends. Of his blood family he writes: "Paul’s immediate kin, though possessing considerable talents and virtues, he has been estranged from for years, and by this estrangement discovered more refined and humanitarian qualities in himself." He truly did not love us any more. (Even before he cut ties with me, he said he never wanted to hear the word "love.") Maybe life really is just a cartoon. But I'm not laughing yet. I feel as though I've been beaten with a bat and there's a mountain with stars circling the top of my head. Wishing I could be in whatever dimension he's in now. With him. Maybe he'd love me if I were there. I may have to find a grief counseling group. Thank you all for your support, dear DF family. WOTL
  9. My elder brother is dead. To say his name and the word "dead" in the same sentence is . . . unfathomable. He cut me off in 2012 because, I believe, I came to live with my parents again and rather than talk it out with me, ask me my reasons--he just said he wanted "no more personal sharing." He had cut my parents off 30 years ago. I never had the courage to go to NY and just knock on his door and demand that he hear me. I feared further rejection and now , , , it's too late. I WILL NEVER GET THE CHANCE TO DO IT. Oh! I'm such a coward! But Paul never explained to ANYONE why he estranged himself. He cut off both my sisters as well. The only person he didn't cut off was my younger brother, who, in their adult years, never really had a relationship. David, my younger brother, never sought a relationship with Paul because he was angry with Paul for the way he cast aside my parents. My parents LAUNCHED HIS CAREER. He found he loved the bass, and my parents nurtured his talent (Paul even told me how much he respected my mother's work ethic. She was the pianist with the orchestra in town.) At age 16, he was a member of the orchestra. He found a teacher he wanted to study with, while in high school--principal bassist with the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, and one or the other of my parents took him and his bass to Cincinnati every week for his lesson. They paid for his college education, and when Paul felt he had learned everything he could in Cincinnati, he transferred to the Cleveland Conservatory of Music to study with the principal bassist of the Cleveland orchestra. He auditioned for a place in the New York Symphony Orchestra at age 21 and got a job replacing a bassist who was on sabbatical for a year. They helped set him up in his first apartment . . . they invested EVERYTHING in Paul and he just turned his back on them. When he died, he had been principal bassist for the New Jersey Symphony. He was having joint problems--his right shoulder was damaged due to the repetitive motion of drawing a bow across the strings. He practiced five hours a day for YEARS. He knew entire scores to more pieces than I could possibly name. This calendar year, my eldest sister Karen just called him sometimes. Sometimes he would return the call; other times he would not. Mostly not. In June of this year, he knew he was dying, but never told Karen or David, who had reached out to him just to talk after years of silence. Paul said he was sorry that he wasn't there for David when David lost his life partner, his four dogs and his home. David and Karen tried to call him in late in September, and found that his phone had been disconnected. (Paul REFUSED to own a cell phone.) David was alarmed by this and called the police in Paul's precinct and asked that they go to Paul's apartment building where the superintendent told them that the tenant in 5D had "passed away." Pancreatic cancer. I can't imagine what it must have been like to hear it over the phone. Meanwhile, my mother told me that David was going to stop in town on his way to California, and, always having loved David's company, I was so happy. But when I came home from my chiropractic appointment, David's demeanor was solemn. He asked to speak to me privately. When the words "Paul is dead," came out of his mouth, I'm told I screamed so loudly and for so long--my family had never heard anything like it. I remember saying "I want to die. I want to be where he is." And we had company for dinner that day to celebrate my mother's cousin's birthday! How strange life is. I will never see him again, and I have felt guilt about that. My friend, Silvia, said, "But Marianna, you're acting like you did something wrong. He was a grown man. These were his choices. He wanted to be in control, and he was until the end." He even wrote his own obituary. And the last two paragraphs are so painful to read . . . something like: "While my siblings have accomplishments of their own, I find I've found a better life without them." Early this year, I sent him the book I wrote without a note enclosed or a signature. I'm sure he read it, but I knew not to expect a response. For a while my grief ran the gamut of anger to ruminating on his emotional fragility. Paul and my father are the two templates I have for finding a life partner. I always go for the guy with the big brain and the frozen heart. (My last relationship with a man was a disaster because I was so lonely I settled for someone lesser than my standard, and he turned out to be mentally ill and verbally abusive.) Paul was very unkind to me when we were growing up. I would have done ANYTHING to make him like me. We had a good talk when I was in my early twenties, and he apologized for the pain he'd inflicted on me. Oh, Paul! Today I can feel only love.
  10. Just some thoughts . . . I've been taking Wellbutrin XL300 for . . . more than a year now, at least. Are you getting any talk therapy? The pill doesn't do all the work. Your "Normal" can only be determined by you, and how you feel, not just day to day, but long enough to have been on the medication to feel a rise in spirits, and an eventual leveling off. The "leveling off" is your new Normal. This "rise in spirits" could feel enough like a kind of euphoria and "What did I think I was depressed about?" confidence to make you think you should stop taking the drug. The real test is what you are able to express and heal with the help of a good therapist. Antidepressants and therapy go well hand in hand. Best wishes to you, ChopinLover (love your name) WOTL
  11. I have two that I seem to rotate. Current one says I'm always in search of the Light. Sometimes I even find it and transcend grief, loss, suicidal ideation.
  12. Thank you, F. Vega. Light and Peace to you always. WOTL
  13. Wanting to be with my brother, who didn't want to be with me or any other member of my family. Thinking of getting rid of a lot of stuff, just in case. Don't want people to have to clean up my mess.
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