This post has nothing to do with diabetes. In fact, it’s one I’ve debating on sharing, but I’m choosing to do so anyway.
Divorce was one of those things taught to us that, as Christians, you could not break that vow to God unless one had cheated on the other and the marriage couldn’t be rectified or one was abusive. I can even remember a conversation my sister and I had after our parents had a fight: We were in the back yard with a bottle or a can trying to see who could destroy it the best, shouting the words “Oh yeah, well, if mom and dad ever split/got a divorce / etc, then I’d be this mad!” and *crush* the can or bottle. I didn’t realize just how true that feeling was until now.
When my parents divorced recently, it was as if my entire foundation was crumbling right before me and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. My parents’ separation and divorce was not amicable, thus causing a lot of tension around the subject for anyone who was close to it. As a grown 20-something woman who was married and had a family of her own, I thought I could handle it. With all the crap that diabetes has always thrown me over the years, the one thing I could rely on being the same was family, and that even through the divorce, we were still family, so I thought I was okay. As time passes, I realize that I couldn’t and haven’t handled it. In one year after my parent’s divorce, my dad was seeing someone and a year later he’s set to be remarried…actually, one month from today. Oh, and my mom has already been remarried for some time now. I was okay with the divorce, until new people entered the picture. My head hasn’t stopped spinning since.
As an adult, I know that I really don’t have a say in anything that goes on with either of them. They are no longer responsible for me, and technically, I was never responsible for them. But there are times, I feel as if I’m a kid who has lost everything. More than stick, brick, nails and shingles of a home (which, btw, is no longer my house that I grew up in.. I’ll never be able to take him there and let him see the room that mom grew up in, or show him his uncle’s footprint from when he was two years old and he propped his dirty foot on my bedroom wall and I never cleaned it off, or let him climb the tree I used to climb when I was a kid), I’ve lost the sense of foundation that I felt my life was built on. And, partly, I feel like my childhood was a lie.
As my dad’s wedding date approaches, I am becoming more and more anxious about these changes. Everything just seems to be happening so fast that I cannot wrap my head around it. It’s causing more and more panic attacks. I try to ignore my feelings, but the more I do, the worse they come to the surface. It happened again last night at my dad’s birthday/ meet’n-greet (yeah, it’s been two years and we are JUST now meeting her kids…a month before the wedding…. not going into that one). My heart went from “0-to-60″ as it were, the room started spinning, and I started to black out. I thought it I moved around, I would be okay, but I wasn’t. We had to leave. I want everything to slow down to my mind can wrap itself around and I can accept these huge changes. But it’s not, and I don’t know how to handle them.
Until then, I’m learning to just breathe.