Time to Rebalance

The best analogy for this past year is the way you see soldiers portrayed in the movies… fighting in a war, bullets whizzing by their heads endlessly, until a bomb detonates five feet away from them.

They emerge confused, deaf with a loud ringing in their ears, and searching for survivors. There is smoke everywhere so they can’t get a lay of the land. They are in shock. They are wounded, but unclear how. They just want to get themselves and those around them to safety and will do whatever it takes to get there.

That was me the first nine months.

I didn’t realize the full depth of the trauma we experienced the months before Chris died. The endless hiss and beeping of machines. The emergency room visits. The falls. The pain. Watching him lose his ability to breath. Waiting for him to die, then waiting some more. His death days before Christmas.

I spent those first few months doing triage the only way I knew how. Urgently and with purpose. Got all of the medical equipment out within a week. Was painting his Zen Den/hospital room within a month. Ordered new furniture and rugs and artwork. Cleaned out closets and deep cleaned the house. I was trying to give the girls a more comfortable environment to heal, so I scrambled to change things. I had been running ragged for years as a caretaker and it was hard to slow down despite my exhaustion. It was instinct.

My girls suffered those first few months, like “can’t get out of bed and crying everyday” kind of struggling. It was awful. Barely got them to school in the spring, and my oldest graduated by the skin of her teeth. A mother is only as happy as her saddest child, so that was a dark time in our house. I found myself grasping for anything that might ease the pain.

I made impulse decisions and purchases. Nothing insane, just more clothes, jewelry and home décor than we really needed. Redecorated several rooms in the house. Bought a new car, though I don’t regret that, or the stacks of books I bought, for a second. I bought the girls anything they wanted, and plenty of things they didn’t want. I was trying to fill a void, create a distraction, prolong that little high you get when you have something shiny and new.

I enlisted doctors and counselors for the girls, and then I joined a gym because I wasn’t sure what I needed but it seemed like a good idea. I went in doing five classes a week (after zero exercise for years) and of course I promptly injured myself. I ended up in physical therapy all summer as a result. I dieted severely and lost a bunch of weight, then I binged and gained it all back again. Nothing was working.

I tried reading and writing, but couldn’t focus. Everything was still too cloudy. Don’t judge, but I tried witchcraft. Not the Wiccan religion, but the “meditate with candles, set intentions, and connect with nature” kind. It was and is rather helpful. When I’m up early I sit on the back porch with a blanket, the dogs, and a hot cup of tea. I light some white candles – usually one for each of us in my house, and a black one for the intention I have. I close my eyes and take a “sound bath” – just focusing on what I hear – the birds, dogs barking, the world around me waking up. I try to release any pain I have to the universe during this time, and ask for guidance. I know this sounds hokey, but I was a desperate woman and don’t knock it until you try it.

Things settled a little once school was out, but I was still stumbling and didn’t know what to do next. So I dyed my hair a bright pink. It was a low risk choice (it’s just hair), but it made me feel like I had some freedom. I already felt like an outsider in society, and this just solidified it for a while. It was fun, but it turned out it to be ridiculously high maintenance, so I went back to blonde just before Christmas.

I became frustrated at my range of emotions. I was angry at things and people I shouldn’t have been. I said dumb things, or just stopped talking altogether when I got fed up with myself. Sometimes I wanted to be around people, but I also declined a lot of invitations this year. I got overwhelmed easily. I felt guilt and shame and sadness, but there were moments of joy and peace interspersed too. I struggled to create new memories for the girls, so we took a lot of trips. Sometimes it worked, other times there were tears because we just couldn’t be in the moment enough to enjoy it.

Fall came, and I managed to pull off a memorial ALS fundraiser. Not huge, but effective. Allowed me to connect with so many people I hadn’t seen since Chris died. People I didn’t even realize that I missed. Then my oldest took off to travel and work on farms across the country. Absolutely the best decision ever and highly recommend it to any parent for a gap year option. She was travelling, meeting people, working with animals, and living life independently. My daughter returned home in November more confident, happier, and healthier than I had ever seen her. Though the holidays were a bit sad, she’s remained in this good place and I am so relieved. (We also just learned that she’s on the autism spectrum, so processes these emotions differently than her sister…)

My youngest, however, has been on a downward spiral since school started. By November, however, the school anxiety had been replaced by an intense sadness. I felt this shift too.

With the impeding holidays came the grief. Finally.

The dust was settling and things were becoming clearer. We could identify the wounds – physical, emotional, mental. We knew which could be treated with medication or assistance, or which just needed time. When December rolled around we were knee deep in tears, but oddly, it wasn’t a bad thing. It was expected.

And now we are here. Past the one year anniversary of Chris’s death. Past the first real Christmas without him. Past what would have been his 55th birthday.

Whew.

While not totally healed, I feel a peace that I haven’t felt in years. I can see the landscape and intend on spending this 2023 rebalancing everything that’s gone out of whack the last four years. It’s a lot, and I really feel like I’m starting from scratch. I’ve never been a single parent before, and I haven’t been a single woman in over 25 years. I’ve also never had financial freedom like I currently have, and for that I am eternally thankful. I can take my time, focus on my girls, and work on intentionally rebuilding my life.

I’ve worked with a lot of smart people this year, so I have a clearer understanding on how to eat better, exercise properly, set boundaries, meditate, and write with purpose. I’ve also tried so many different approaches to life that didn’t work in a very short period of time, that I have a better idea what might actually help me achieve my objectives.

For example:

Sugar, bad/Vegetables good
Large crowds, bad/Small groups, good
Laying on couch all day, bad/going to gym or walking dog, good
Staying up past ten, bad/Getting eight hours of rest, good
Walking around with bees in my brain, bad/Writing for several hours to release them, good

There are lots more, but you get the idea. It’s about the small choices. So I work to do at least one of the activities on my “good” list everyday, and fewer of the items on my “bad list”. It’s not a perfect system, but helps me keep my boat from tipping over when it should be going straight.

I would also like to add: If an invitation or idea isn’t a “hell, yes!”, then it’s a clear “fuck, no.” No point in trying to pump up myself, or my children, for things that might cause more harm than good. The recovery time just isn’t worth it.

So, that’s where we are. 2023 isn’t so much about balance, as it is rebalance. It’s about simplifying and only focusing on the Beutler girls’ mental and physical health. Period. Every decision I make will be putting those things first, no exceptions. So if we decline an invitation or don’t answer a phone call, or you see us doing something unconventional, or don’t see us at all for a while, please don’t be offended, just know that we are doing what is best for us.

That is also my wish for all of you – do more of the things that are good for you, and less of the things that are bad. Do what is best for you – helping others, helping yourself – and rebalance your life into the one you always wanted.

Cheers!