Tell it to My Heart

Most days, I push it away okay.

Most days, I shake my head back and forth when I think of her, in an attempt to rattle the thoughts from my head.

Most days, I’ve accepted that I’ve lost her. Maybe not the physical her, but the real her.

All I’m left with is a shell.

All I’m left with is someone I’ve known for 35 years, but have never met before.

Just when I’ve had a week or so of most days, a feeling of panic washes over me at the most random of times. It knocks me down. It lays me out.

When the panic hits, it manifests itself in one of two ways: anger or sadness.

Mostly, I prefer the former, because it’s easier to feel the anger than the sadness. (Although, my blood pressure and twitter stream would likely disagree.)

This family of ours has dealt with too much pain and death, and mostly all at once, these past five years.

And, here we go again, into something that feels exactly the same and completely different.

The same emotions felt in a completely foreign way.

When we lost them in the plane crash, I felt a sadness that I’ll never be capable of describing with words. To this day, the mere thought of them makes me psychically ache.

With this, the sadness is equally inexplicable and painful, but it’s coupled with such intense anger at the very person I’m missing and mourning.

Sure, I was angry at the universe when we lost our Jacominis, but I was certainly never mad at them.

I am mad at her.

Mad that she’s choosing this fate. Mad that she’s shrunk my family of three down to a family of two. I’m so mad at how many people are feeling this loss and that we’re all locked in this prison with her, and I’m fucking furious that she doesn’t give a shit. I’m angry that, despite my best efforts and my fake facade, this is affecting the most important relationships in my life. And, I’m mad and disappointed at myself for being weak enough to let it.

Feeling so much anger will eat at your soul and slowly chip away at your spirit. Even so, it’s better than the sadness that lies below it.

To have someone you love so deeply be on this earth physically, yet not emotionally or mentally, is gut-wrenching. To slowly watch someone disappear, piece by painful piece, is heart-breaking. And, to have zero control over any of it? Helpless.

I’ve given love to her and I’ve given hate. I’ve been patient and I’ve lost my shit completely. I’ve opened my heart completely and handed it to her, only to have it spit at, stomped on, and thrown back at me. I’ve told her I miss her and I’ve told her to go fuck herself.  Despite it all, she keeps moving farther and farther away. She’s getting smaller by the day and I can barely see her anymore.

People, with only the best of intentions, say over and over again that tough love is what it takes. They tell me to move on and not let her dictate my emotions any longer.

And, I get all that. I really get it.

At least my brain does, anyway.

But, the thing is, no one’s ever been able to tell me how the hell I’m supposed to convince my heart of all this.

It simply will not listen.

And, my greatest fear is that, much like her, it never will.

12 thoughts on “Tell it to My Heart

  1. I’m so sorry that you are having to go through this. Honestly, in my experience (which, unfortunately, is quite extensive), the person has to reach the point where they are open to hearing your message. For some reason, some people never get there. Others do. Tough love may work for some people, but it certainly doesn’t work for all. Again, I don’t really have any advice other than to say simply, “I’m sorry.” Sending lots of good thoughts your way and hoping that one day she wakes up and realizes what she’s missing.

  2. Your heart will never get it, I’m sorry to say. All you can do is turn towards the relationships you do have, instead of away from them. Hugs to you.

  3. If you are talking about your sister, I really feel your pain. One of my sisters treated my Mom like crap for most of her life, until she had kids of her own and my Dad told her she had a choice.

    The other sister’s husband died, which is sad, but it is almost 12 years now. She lives in my parents house at 44. She has the balls to put up a list of what she eats and what she doesnt eat. It’s been there for 9 years now. She refreshes it though when they dared to have a dinner that she didnt like and she asks for money for food that she can tolerate, in the car that they bought for her, and pays STILL insurance for!

    Now that my Mom has passed away she feels like she owns my Dad. I think she was almost happy when my Mom was diagnosed. She actually had the balls to tell her when they both told us all about the diagnosis that because she lives there she will be in charge of taking care of him when she went.

    She doesnt clean, she doesnt cook, she just started putting her dishes into the dishwasher 3 months ago when my Mom couldnt walk away. Then she would come in and tell my Dad what she did. Now she takes out the garbage. And comes in and tells him, dont worry, I took care of it.

    I love my sister too, but sometimes I want to punch her.

  4. Oh Allison, I am so sorry that you are dealing with this. Life is so absolutely unfair. I have no idea how if I would be able to deal with such sadness as well as you have. You may not feel like you have dealt with it well, but sweetie, you have done the best that you can do.

    I hope you find some peace soon sweetie.

  5. I can’t tell you how I did it because I’m not even sure, but I had to become numb to her. It was so hard because I was so angry at her. I couldn’t stop thinking about her or talking about her. All of my conversations were about my sister. My husband probably avoided talking to me because he knew the conversation would quickly devolve into talking about HER. How she betrayed us, her daughter, our parents. How she didn’t even seem to care. It took her living out of her car for about a week to finally admit that she needed help and she still fucked it up by ‘dating’ someone in rehab. Even when she knew codependency was her biggest issue, even bigger than the drugs. And because we were trying to protect her from her ex husband, I couldn’t write about it on my blog. This is the most I’ve written about it ever.

    I don’t know my sister. She isn’t the girl I was best friends with when we were kids. This new person may be sober but she’s forever changed and so am I. What she did can never be undone. I may forgive her but I cannot forget.

    We all cope differently but don’t let her become part of your every waking moment. You need a break from feeling angry or sad. You need a break from talking about it to anyone who will listen. Take a break from her bullshit, Allison.

  6. I can’t think of any other words than I’m sorry. I’m sorry that your heart is hurting so badly right now.
    I hope that some day you are able to find peace with this. Many hugs to you!

  7. Right there with you friend. In fact I’m actually seeing a grief specialist now because apparently I skipped that part.

    It’s so hard. I get so mad. I understand it all, and yet I still think the phone will ring and it will be her.


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