Let Go!

You cannot rescue anyone who is determined to drown. You have two choices. Drown with them, or survive by letting go and reaching for the buoy or life jacket right above you. The survivor guilt can be managed, but death is a permanent end.

I am sitting here in awe of the choice I have made within the 16 hours I have been awake with my qualifier. I made the decision to let go and swim to the top of the waves, grab the life jacket, buoy and surf board that have been waiting for me all this time. My qualifier has always enjoyed sinking to the depths of the ocean of life. He has loved the darkness and the dim light that passes between the waves above. For a long time, I felt I needed to be dark and dim to all his tricks and manipulations. It was easier to just go along with it all and sink to the bottom with him. The very idea of letting go of his hand, the hand I felt so much comfort holding, felt like the deepest betrayal of all time. No longer tethered to my mother, who always laughed and delighted in the sun and surf above the depths, the familiar thing left was depression with him.

My Mother found joy in everything she did. She would laugh about the hard times, live in every moment of the good times, and hope always. When Cancer came calling, people told my mother she needed to be surrounded by positivity, to have encouragement spoken to her every day. To this my mother responded, “I am not sure if you have noticed, but my husband is a very negative man and staying positive with him around is almost impossible.” After years of being belittled, screamed at, threatened, controlled and stomped down, the fight to stay positive with the negative force that is my qualifier, gave the Cancer the ability to take hold and hold on tight. She had gotten out from under his thumb. He called me saying he didn’t like this new woman she was becoming. She was a threat to all he had worked for to keep his negativity at the core of their marriage. But West Nile won and forced Cancer treatments to stop, giving way to Cancer’s victory over my person and best friend, my Mamabear.

Now I am left with the negativity. I am left with my qualifier and the familiar sounds of the depths of darkness he lives in. I am left feeling so guilty for wanting a different life, for wanting to let go and grab any floatation device I am able to and swim back to shore. The guilt of wishing he would go home to Mom, coupled by the desire to hear his voice and pretend he is the Dad I always wanted, weighs on me heavily. I believe his passing, which he has called to say he very much wants to go home, will bring a relief that will haunt me for years to come. How can you hope for someone to be happy, when their happy means they have left their earthly home and body?

I pray he will go from the depths of the darkness, pass through the surf and fly to the joy of the sun. I pray he will be at peace somewhere, because here on earth he is not at peace. I pray for forgiveness for not being able to be there for him like I wish I could because I have to keep strong boundaries to keep me safe from his phycological, emotional, verbal and spiritual abuse over the phone and in person. I am tired of the familiar. Of not being able to breathe under his oppression and under the waves he calls home.

And so I am letting go with love and respect for him and myself. I am not as determined to drown as he is now. I am determined to survive his snark, anger, paranoia and judgement. I am determined to survive, even as survivor guilt covers me like a shroud. I know I will shed the guilt and I will be there for others who are shedding their own guilt shrouds, people who have decided that staying in the depths of darkness, although familiar, is not conducive to a productive and loving life above the depths.