Breakthrough #1

First I am just going to say that I apologize for any profanity and incorrect grammar in this post. I am just letting the words flow and type as I go.

Holy shit! Now, I can honestly say that I would have NEVER thought a "breakthrough" would have happened this quickly with started on a new therapist. But I knew I was going in with an open-mind and heart and ready to figure shit out. So, I started seeing this therapist just last week, I knew I liked her right away. In therapy I have been used to therapist just sitting and nodding and asking questions but never really felt there was a solution, in fact most of the time I would leave therapy in the past I wouldn't feel better but sometimes even worse because what was discussed just hovered over me. Last night I also started seeing the other therapist but I am going to call him more of a "coach" because of his approach and honestly I can't wait to work with him more.

So, let me explain tonight...

The first part we were discussing goals that I would like to achieve and it went a little something like this... Umm, I want to fix my fucking life! That's a goal, right? Well, according to her she needed a more simpler and realistic approach. "Okay, well then I guess it goes like this, in no particular order:"

1. Self-Love
2. Forgiveness for others that have hurt me and for myself
3. Trust
4. Dealing with my fathers passing because I don't believe I have been able to fully grieve
5. Anxiety which comes from all of the thoughts and emotions

I explained that I wanted a goal of 8-12 wks to uncover some of the underlining issues that cause me to doubt myself and others which provoke me to either lash out in anger or seclude myself in sadness. For her that was do-able to set a goal on that.

So fast forward to the last 30 mins where we started discussing my dads passing. As I am sharing with her how I have felt that I have not been able to fully grieve his passing because of ALL of the things that came one right after another after another after another... I shared with her how I secretly gave myself a Christmas present on 2016 and that was to finally close the estate and all of the shit that came along with it for 2 YEARS. I suppose in my heart and mind I would have thought the grief would have come to an end once it was all settled but in reality it didn't. It sat bottled up in sadness, guilt and anger. I never shared it with anyone besides the fact that during certain times I was sad but because I never realized it EVEN existed!!!! UNTIL TONIGHT!

After I "thought" I was finished talking about it, she says to me (but at the same time I already sense the emotions I didn't realize I was feeling until I finally spoke and thought I was done), "Jill, after hearing you talk I not only hear your sadness but I also sense some... anger." As I am holding back the tears I nod my head in agreement. Then her next question is, "can you tell me some of the things that make you angry about all of this?"

I explain to her that I was pissed that I allowed myself to be put in a position to be POA for my father and heir of the estate. Now, unless you have been there as I hadn't been before you wouldn't know the challenges, struggles and stress that this can bring on to someone. Let alone someone who just lost their father unexpectedly!

Breaking it down:

1. Dad goes in for a surgery after finding 2 spots on his lungs that the biopsy couldn't get to (post remission for cancer 2 years prior)
2. After being a full time caretaker for my dad after his previous treatment, along with being a single mom and trying to work while taking care of my dad and daughter at the same time while holding down a job, I tried to be the tough guy by pushing this procedure aside as not that big of a deal.
3. My dad told me prior after talking to the Dr. that if the spots were cancerous that he would have to do radiation (which nearly killed my dad before). My dad explained to me that he didn't think he could do radiation again, me trying to be the strong one told him we didn't need to worry about it right now and would worry about it later.
4. Day of surgery they plan to do a biopsy of the spots on my dads lungs during the surgery and IF they are cancerous they would remove the upper lobe of my dads lung. Well, they were cancerous. So, they removed the upper lobe. Nurse comes back and said surgery was over and he would be in recovery and we could see him in about an hour.
5. Hour and a half later, nurse comes back and said some issues occurred and he had to be rushed back into surgery and they were working on him then. 30 mins later the nurse comes back in saying they were still working on him and the Dr. should hopefully be out to talk to us shortly but my dad had crashed while going into recovery and basically went without H2O for nearly 30 mins. Nearly 3 hrs later the Dr. comes out to tell us that he had no idea what happened and why, they opened him again to see if the lung they worked on had collapsed and when seeing that it hadn't, opened the other side. They then tried to revive him for nearly 45 mins then putting him on 2 life support machines. One to help him breathe and another to pump H2O through his blood to his heart. They had no idea on the damage if any he may have after going that long without H20. About 45mins later we were able to see him for short visits every 2-3 hours which lead to a long night overnight stay and a full entire next day.
6. Every so often they would let him come to with the seditaitve and the nurse had told me that when he came to he was mouthing something (my dad could no longer talk because he had his voicebox removed during his 1st surgery and feared laying down flat because he said he couldn't breathe) I had learned to read lips after all of that with my dad and knew his fear and asked the nurse if next time they did that if I could be there to hopefully explain to my dad that there was a machine breathing for him and he was okay. Well, the nurse schedule was messed up and I missed my chance to do that.
6. The 2nd day I was so tired that my brother and I decided it would be best to go home and rest and come back the next day. I went to my boyfriends house that night since it was close to the hospital where he put it in a perfect prospective for me, knowing the weight that laid on my shoulders and knowing my dad said, "Do you think that if those spots weren't cancerous that your dad would be in recovery and okay right now and that maybe knowing that they were cancerous this was his was of saying he couldn't do it anymore?" He was right. Now, you have to know my dad. This does make me laugh because it is SO my dad to say, "HAHA fooled you fuckers, I am out!" Then and there is when I made the decision that the next day I would have to make the most difficult decision I hoped I would ever have to make in my life.
7. 5:30am I get a call from the nurse telling my that I needed to come to the hospital, my dad had taken a turn and they had reached their max on the meds to give him and they also called the Dr. All I could think while I am getting dressed and brushing me teeth while on the phone was "don't you do this to me now dad, not while I am not there!" Later on I like to think that he was trying to go again on his own free will. When I get there and everything is explained to me, I told the nurse I wanted to talk to the Dr. and that the fight was over, I couldn't let my dad continue like this because I knew that was his choice and his living Will. I called all of the family and that very morning after signing 2 forms with black ink with my signature we took my dad off of life support and he passed away.

After I stayed with him until he was no longer with us, I kissed his hand and forehand and said my last goodbye. That same day I arranged to go to the funeral home and make arrangements but before that my boyfriend and I stopped by my dads house to find the life insurance policy we needed. This is when something utterly gut wrenching happened. This moment brought tears to the both of us, made me realize that my dad already knew something that I was trying shrug off like no big deal but that he knew he wouldn't be around. Behind his locked office door that I had a key to is where we walked in to his desk where he had everything laid out with post-it notes; "Jill, this is my life insurance policy, Jill, theses are the bills I have paid, Jill, if you have questions on XYZ talk to ABC, etc."

It wasn't until family and friends came and I talked too prior and during his funeral that several told me that he expressed how concerned he was about this surgery. The surgery that I shrugged off as if it was no big deal, we will make it through. In my mind nothing could have been worse than the 1st. We had this or so I thought.

Which leads me to my breakthrough:

"Jill, when I hear you talk about this I can't help but to hear some anger, can you tell me what you might be angry about?"

Well, I am angry that the nurses screwed up their scheduling and prevented me from being able to physically see my dad while awake and to see if he really was mentally there and for me to be able to hold his hand and tell him that he was OKAY and that a machine was helping him breath and he didn't need to be scared to be laying flat. I WANTED to see for myself if my DAD was really there and to be able to tell him he was okay but because of the mix up with nurses that didn't get to happen, which prevented me from seeing and being there to comfort him.
I'm not angry with my dad for making me POA or heir of his estate because he didn't know what I would have to go through. He wouldn't know the struggle of everything from 2 mortgages, dealing with a custody battle with my daughter, needing to sell things that meant the world to him and getting FUCKED over on them just to be able to afford attorney bills and other bills and trying to deal with the estate on a not so great credit. Nobody would think those things. What I am angry about is that ALL of that shit happened during the time I should have been grieving my fathers death. I'm angry that I would take it all back to have him back and have nothing he left to me, I'm angry that I didn't understand the responsibility and everything that came along with being the heir. Looking back, I wish I hadn't been.
I was angry that I shrugged it all off like no big deal to later listen to people tell me that he told them that he was worried about this surgery. I was angry at myself for not taking it more seriously and spending more time with him before his surgery date. I was upset with myself that knowing all he did and put together before his surgery let me know he knew something I didn't but I felt horrible not knowing how he was feeling and he was feeling alone and that I wasn't there for him and wondered how scared he really was. How I hated late hearing from his friends and relatives of how he voiced his concern for it all and I am brushing it off as if it was okay, we made it before we will surely make it this time.
I was angry and pissed with everything that happened after my dad passed until I was finally able to sell somethings and ask for some families help that I closed the estate. Then, I realize that I'm still not "fixed" after the estate was closed when I tried to convince myself that it was over when it really never began.

Keep in mind this whole time I am talking in 20 mins reliving and finally letting it ALL out didn't take me as long to explain as it did to type. (Had to be there, I guess). When I am finally finished telling her all the reasons I was pissed off and bitter, I am one fucking hot mess of snot and tears. Finally I stopped talking and she grabbed my knees and said "what are you feeling right now?" Then more waterworks and snot before I was finally able to say, "I don't believe I have ever been able to tell anyone how all of this made me feel and if I had, I think I held back." Then more tears and snot then she says to me which is something I mentioned during all of the things I was pissed off about, "Many of us are scared of death and for those of use who are, I don't think we would think to be so thoughtful to help with everything your dad did, especially if he wasn't really an organized man (which he wasn't) but those who are accepting it, I can see them doing what your dad did by laying out all of the post-it notes."

Insert where something ugly but magical happens.... I fucking sob for however long! Longer than I have remembered crying in I don't know how long. She tells me, "to just feel it and to let it out." I know I mentioned to try to lighten the mood that I know I am an ugly crier and she tells me, "you are doing something beautiful right now and ugly is not a word to be used in this moment." Which led to about 5 more minutes of tears until I finally calmed down. THEN someone knocks on her door, she goes and looks and wouldn't you know it was the most beautiful little 7 year old blonde I have ever seen. My daughter, my therapist told her we would be just a couple more minutes and then she would take us on a tour of her horse stables and my daughter agreed but not before noticing me and my red eyes that I was trying to conceal from her. Then my therapist sits back down and she says, "think that might have been a sign from your dad telling you it's time to finally let go of all of that pain?"

Damn, I am sorry for the long post tonight but I came home tonight feeling lighter and accomplished of something along this journey that I could not wait to share!

Note to self: Breakthroughs are fucking AMAZING!!! Going to a therapist isn't for the weak, it's for those who are strong enough to realize they have issues to battle and are willing to see and know it.

Jillian