Post by Shreddingbetty on Jul 11, 2019 23:11:32 GMT -5
I have had plenty of really shitty days that still stand out to this day but I can’t honestly say I have had a « worse day of my life ». Maybe I’m not emotional enough but I guess I also feel that there is so much worse out there. I took me a good long while to realize that I’m allowed to feel bad about everything I suffered through during my marriage to my now recovered alcoholic XH. He never laid a hand on me but was abusive and neglectful in many other ways. But I also minimized it because there is so much worse out there that people suffer through. I had a relatively comfortable life for most of my life but just because there is worse out there doesn’t mean that what I lived doesn’t matter or matter less. But it is still relative and there is so much worse out there so I can’t really think of a worst day of my life scenario. And I have been through 2 divorces, one with an bad alcoholic and one with a narcissist, my mom disowned me for several years when I decided to stay in the Us and told me I was dead to her, I post partum hemorrhaged while on a plané and ended up losing a lot of blood which was pretty scary but somehow I was sort of blasé about it with my newborn in my arms. When I had to confront my ex about his drinking with an ultimatum and things got ugly. The day my ex best friend betrayed me. All bad stuff for sure but none of it bad enough in my eyes to qualify as worst day ever. Now I have never lost anyone super close to me but i don’t think I will get that worst day of my life feeling even once my parents or siblings die. The worst day I can imagine is if anything were to ever happen to my kid. I would imagine that would be the worst day of my life and I hope I never will have to experience that.
So far it is very easy for me to say the day my mom died was the worst day of my life. It was a long, slow death from cancer but I was naive and didn’t realize the end was so close until a few days before. I was lucky enough to be in the room with her when it happened, though.
Another pretty shitty day was when my dad sustained a life threatening injury and was helicoptered to a hospital. I was about to head home to help with all of that, when I started miscarrying and then needed to stay put.
One of the saddest things I’ve ever witnessed was my MIL’s grief at the death of her twin. I am a twin too, and the two of us just clutched each other and bawled uncontrollably at the funeral.
I am sure if I live long enough there are more really bad days coming but I’m going to try not to worry too much about them right now.
The day my Grandma died. It was completely unexpected and up until that point, I had never even considered the fact that we would lose her one day. She had a massive stroke and was found a day or two later. It destroyed me that she was alone, but she wouldn’t have wanted to be kept alive with deficits it would have caused so that helps bring me peace.
When my then 5yo was transferred to a bigger hospital an hour away. She was such a sick baby and we had no clue if she would make it. Her body was more or less attacking itself. She’s a beautiful 17 yo now ❤️
I have a couple more that I would consider up there, but they were from while I was on duty and not my stories to tell.
Post by litskispeciality on Jul 12, 2019 10:54:57 GMT -5
I shouldn't have gone down this rabbit hole. Watching my mom had a detox episode on Christmas night is something I've never recovered from. My poor dad tried so hard to stop me from going. People who work in treatment, who help people detox don't make enough money to see that stuff every day.
Ironically as this post comes up I'm coming up on the 1 year anniversary of having to have my dad's neighbor I hardly knew do a well check, including sending the police because he said "I'll call you in 20 minutes" the night before and never called me back. None of the surrounding neighbors I knew to contact saw the ambulance, I didn't knwo the person who ultimately helped him so she didn't know to call and tell me he fell...again. It started one of the hardest years of my life and I still need to get a counselor to talk it through. I saw him yesterday for a doc apt. and he kept bringing up the date. His whole life has changed and now I have to keep reliving calling over and over again the night before hoping he wasn't trapped inside his house unable to move.
(((HUGS))) to all of you, you've been through some big traumas.
"Why would you ruin perfectly good peanuts by adding candy corn? That's like saying hey, I have these awesome nachos, guess I better add some dryer lint." - Nonny
Post by InBetweenDays on Jul 12, 2019 12:25:21 GMT -5
Hugs to everyone in this thread. Overall I've been pretty fortunate so far but two things stand out.
Just a month and a half ago - BIL passed away unexpectedly after an extremely short recurrence of melanoma. H didn't even get home in time - he was on the plane when BIL passed. It has absolutely rocked H.
A close second was when my mom went in to cardiac arrest. My dad did CPR until the medics got there and she had to be airlifted to the hospital (they live on an island). My dad and sister had to take a ferry so I was the first one to the hospital. It was touch and go for awhile, but she made a full recovery. My dad saved her life. Had he not walked in when he did - even if it was only a minute or two later - she wouldn't be here.
The day I realized I had to leave my (first) ex husband. Walking into the hospital. When they asked me what I was there for I just started sobbing. The looks on the police officers faces when I wouldn’t file a police report. (He had punched me so hard in the ribs). He owned a semi automatic rifle. I was not taking chances of being come after.
I remember feeling a combination of shame and relief. Shame in it taking so long to leave. Relief in finally leaving.
There are days I miss the good times we had. And it makes me angry at myself.
Post by rachelgreen on Jul 15, 2019 2:18:40 GMT -5
I’m still grieving them both (evidenced by the fact I’m probably yet again drunk posting now and I don’t drink anymore). It’s more of a worst week of your life vs day though.
My beloved MIL, who was my mom in every sense of the word, passed away rapidly from cancer on March 17th this year. The next week I found out my baby was dead and then I had to deliver her on March 29th. I’m just going through the motions basically. Faking it until i make it I suppose.
All of the shitty incidents of my childhood and abuse of my teens doesn’t compare. The recession layoffs are nothing in hindsight. Seven years of infertility seems like a cake walk. Stillbirth? I don’t wish it on my worst enemy.
July 29, 2018. The day my father called me sobbing that my brother was dead. It just didn't compute and I had to have my dad repeat it like 3 times. I still feel awful that I made him have to say it over and over again. Unknown to us, he was huffing and accidentally killed himself. His housemate found brother when he heard brother's dog barking from the bedroom. Housemate called my dad. Driving to his house, seeing the fire truck, ambulance, sheriffs, all there when we arrived and then seeing the ME van pull up, it was all too much.
My parents are broken from his death. I am still so full of anger at him since he caused them so much pain when he was alive and still is doing so after his death. Counseling helped some but I am pretty sure my anger will never go away since I spent so much of my life angry at him about how he treated my parents.
It was April 27, 2017. My DD was born 6 weeks early and we'd been transferred to a different hospital with a higher level NICU. She was just under 5 weeks old and we finally received the results of her bloodwork - they were positive for a rare genetic condition. I was by myself at the hospital and was holding her when the doctor came to tell me. After she gave me all the scary details, I asked what comes next and her response still guts me every time I think about it. She told that we could treat it - years of various therapies, she'd never go to a "normal" school, we'd never travel again, my marriage would fall apart, and that we'd all lead a very horrible, sad life. In her opinion, and what she'd do, we needed to go home without a feeding tube and with hospice. We'd have her for about 3 weeks.
ETA: This also went into the next day when we had to tell my parents. I knew I couldn't say it more than once, so I asked my mom to get my dad on another phone. I'll never forget the way she screamed.
My DD is now a little over 2 and is the strongest person I know. Yes, we have tons of appointments and 9 therapies going right now, but she's so smart and is making such great strides. MH and I are better than we ever have been and our village is amazing. I can't believe we came so close to losing her based on the shitty advice from someone who knew nothing about her diagnosis.