erased

I'm struggling at the moment. I wish I wasn't but there have been a lot of tears since yesterday.

I spent the weekend in Sarasota watching a friend's daughter dance in a competition. I went with my roommate D and her youngest daughter Z. The other 2 kids and D's husband B stayed home and took care of Charlie and the cats.

One of the things B wanted to do over the weekend was go through the kitchen cabinets and try to incorporate our 2 households...or so I thought.

I got home last night and the majority of my things were in piles in the living room while the cabinets were full of his things. He pointed to all my stuff and said "I know you're too tired after the drive to go through these things but maybe we can do it later to figure out what to throw out or donate or what will be boxed up to put in the garage."

And just like that I felt erased. All those "things" that seemed old or useless to him, were my life and my memories. Those mixing bowls were ones that Taz and I used to make everything. The turkey roaster, the slow cooker - all things Taz used on a weekly basis. Those palm tree plates - the ones we used for holidays. The rooster plates were from my childhood and Taz and I rescued them from my mom's house 2 years ago. And those cast iron pans that B said he never used to cook - well they were Taz's favorites and he used them ALL the time, almost every night. We had other pots and pans but the cast iron were always his first choice.

So no, I don't want to donate or throw away any of that. I understand that it's no longer my kitchen (although I had thought more of my stuff could stay) but those things are all I have left of Taz and it's killing me to see them cast aside, just some junk to put in the garage.

And just like that I knew that it was no longer MY house. I suppose that might make it easier for me to give it up in the future. No part of the house is mine anymore except for my room. I don't feel at home or comfortable there anymore. I don't do any of things there that I used to do.

I left shortly after arriving yesterday, just picked up Charlie and headed for McDonalds for lunch, then spent a couple of hours in the parking lot, crying. It looks like this 2nd year is going to be even harder than the first but I'm just so tired of trying. I'm so tired of living. I wish I could just stop living this nightmare.

And it feels like no one really cares. I texted a family member and told them I was crying in the parking lot and she completely ignored that and started texting about stuff going on with her. Oh yeah, that's why I never go to anybody for help - nobody gives a damn. I am an inconvenience.

I feel like I've given up so much already. When we moved from California we packed up our whole lives there into a storage unit and left it behind for the time being. We've paid for that storage unit for almost 4 years now hoping that one day we could ship all that stuff here; that's what we planned on doing. There are so many pictures, family heirlooms, a really great pair of boots, the suit of armor Taz bought for me for Christmas in 1995 or 96. But this month I decided not to pay for it and to just let all that stuff go. There isn't room in the house for the stuff I have now anymore, there certainly wouldn't be room for any of the California stuff. And I've thought of flying across country to go through the unit and at least ship back a few precious things but that's just not something I can do on my own and there's nobody to help me. Even if I could physically do it (which I can't) I don't think I would survive emotionally. I can't afford the plane ticket, rental car or motel room anyway. I haven't even paid my January mortgage because I haven't gotten any rent money yet and now it's February. Thank goodness I had my Christmas miracle, the mysterious person who gave me money in December, or I'd now be 2 months behind and heading for 3.

So, I've let the California stuff go (and I grieve for it) and now I'm letting all my kitchen stuff go for now. I don't want to be such a material person, I've always criticized that behavior in my mother but right now it feels like it's all I've got left and it's being ripped from me. My whole adult life has just been erased and it's almost more than I can bear.

After McD's I brought Charlie home and then took myself to Epcot to see a concert and eat a cupcake because today is cupcake day (I celebrate our anniversary on the 3rd of each month with a cupcake to continue a tradition that Taz and I had) and I wasn't going to be able to get to Epcot to get the cupcake today.

It was tasty but the frosting is peanut butter buttercream and that flavor completely overwhelmed anything else. I couldn't even tell you what the cake itself tasted like because all I could taste was peanut butter.

I also enjoyed the brie in a breadbowl at the France pavilion. 

Back at home I took a shower and cried like a baby thinking about all the kitchen stuff again. More tears when I went to bed, when I woke up at 3am and when I got up at 7 this morning. And I'm crying right now as I type this. Apparently giving up my kitchen was harder than I thought it would be. I honestly thought I wouldn't mind because I never used the kitchen nearly as much as Taz and he organized it originally. But maybe that's exactly why it is so hard, it was HIS kitchen and now it's not anymore. Just one more sign of his existence that has been destroyed.

And I'm about to do the final thing in the next week or two - his side of the closet. I desperately need the storage space if I'm ever to have a pretty bedroom again so his clothes need to be sorted through and given away.

And that just might be the thing that kills me.