Kidult Chronicles: Where Loss Resides

Something happened to me while I was sick. My level of clingy need has become a little uncomfortable. Yes, being that sick was scary and Mark was really there for me, but I seriously get bummed in an unhealthy way come night time because I know it's time for us to go to bed and he'll get up before I'm awake and I'll be alone for most of the day. It terrifies me. (I was on the couch sick for a little too long I gather.)

...and it's not lightening up.

Once I got some strength back I drove two hours to Costa Mesa to meet with a natural health care professional to see if the stomach virus was lingering or if I had other issues a front. I thought I was going to treat my stomach, but as I sat with one of the doctors he used a muscle test to figure out in the craziest and spookiest of ways that I was holding the sadness of losing my father in my body...physically holding on to the stress of that moment. He pinpointed my age and he started getting closer and closer to what I knew he was going to say I started to bawl. If a medium was telling me my father was in the room with me I wouldn't have cried any harder.

I know my father and his memory will always be sad and bittersweet, but I've gone to therapy to avoid the crying triggers. I thought I had finally released the pain, but as I sat there crying I knew that wasn't true...and that I still carry HUGE fears of people leaving me now. If someone visits and then we say goodbye I bawl and bawl...Mark going to work brings on the tears (after he's left of course.) I know I don't handle goodbyes well.

The realization has come from finally connecting the dots with resentments I've carried for far too long now. I could never figure out why I still carried anger and pain for folks who are no longer in my life. I mean I am very aware that those relationships were supposed to end...that it was okay to move on, but my heart remained closed and angered. It's actually pissed me off that I was so stubbornly hateful for so long. Then the idea of loss came up and it hit me...whether someone physically leaves or mentally checks out; it hurts me all the same; it's someone leaving and I turn right back into that little girl who heard her father had died, walked to her bedroom, closed the door and rocked in a corner alone.

So I have this leaving hang up. I'm aware of it now so hopefully I can start to figure out how to move forward and not suffocate the ones I love. I'm SO a work in progress. I thought getting older meant growing wiser. All I've managed to do is break up the pieces and begin the analyzing portion of the program. It's hard and it's scary, but all signs point to getting myself together.

Step one: Accept change. Here we go...



  1. Girl, I think the older we get the more we actually realize how much we are works in progress, not so much that we have it all together. It's that realization piece that comes with age. I'm so sorry about your daddy. I'm sure that pain never really goes away. However, acknowledging your triggers however long as passed can help you better deal. I cannot even imagine what that must feel like. It's amazing how deep some wounds can be. I send you many hugs!

    1. Thank you Carmen! xoxo You are a vessel of lovely thoughts I swear! :)


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