Day 12 – Heart Pain

Tomorrow is the anniversary of my older brother’s death. He passed away 4 years ago. He was ill for quite a long time. I took care of him for many years. At the end he was in a nursing home. He was only 55. He died of heart pain. And no, I don’t mean heart attack.

Michael had liver failure and lung disease. He was a drinker and smoker from a very young age. But the real cause of his addictions and eventual death was depression and anxiety.

He never was able to move past the pain of physical and verbal abuse in our home. Until the very end, he was sad that our Mom didn’t support us.

When he died, my mother didn’t come to the funeral. She wasn’t feeling well. 😠.

I lost a big part of my purpose that day. I visited him every day. Sometimes twice a day.

Now what? Now who will I take care of? How do I move on? The next few days were so full of heaviness.

After the services, he was cremated. On the 4th day following his service, I was called to the funeral home to make arrangements for the ashes. On way to the facility, I was crying. Sobbing. (Thinking of him as ashes was overwhelming) The car in front of me stopped and I didn’t. I was in a major car accident. My car was totalled.

I had lost my brother and my car in the same week. How was I going to go on? Thankfully my awesome son and all my friends stayed by my side. But nothing hurts like losing a sibling without the comfort and care of your parents.

I had imagined that when he passed, we would rally as one big family and forget the hurts of the past.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

That probably was when I put up the final wall around my heart.

Since then, I have worked even harder to fill every possible empty moment of my life with work or endless activity.

My point in telling this story is because I want the world to know that trauma and abuse kills. We may survive the abuse, but some never, ever heal.

I’m thankful that I don’t have addictions, but keeping these secrets and fear of others knowing them, nearly killed me.

Tomorrow I’m sure I will cry, but as usual, I will put on the mask that the world knows and get thru another day.

I miss you Mikey, and I know that you are proud of me for chosing to live.

Until next time – I am being MJ every day.