My Husband Dying – first for obvious reasons my first one did. However, this is THE ONE. I mean I couldn’t do any better and the thought that I won’t be able to enjoy him up to my death scares the hell out of me. As he’s working these night and tired etc. I will wake up at night and my heart is just beating and beating and I have to say HE IS ALRIGHT, HE IS ALRIGHT.
Crying – I know that sounds weird but I have a very hard time just releasing in that manner because I feel fear about it. Two instances that I remember that kinda sucked up my tears were revolving around death. The first my father and it was so tense and it seems as if there is this ‘feeling’ that as a Muslim we have to be all calm. I remember being told to ‘not have a Christian funeral’ SIGH. I remember all of us grieving privately – we should have been able to get that off. The other instance was my first husband. I got overwrought and I swear I remember someone telling me to stop. I believe it was my brother. Well this just sucked the liquid out my body. In the last 6 years I have cried alot more than I did before but never more than say 2 minutes. Part of the reason is that it physically hurts. Yea I feel pain all in my head and shoulders – that’s how backed up it is. SIGH.
Confrontation – as much as I prance around, a lot of it is an act. I so do not like confrontation. It’s just not in my nature. I really am a peaceful person. I basically have been bullied at several points in my life by adults and familial peers and it’s been vicious and I never have the words (imagine that) to really get back with folks because I always feel it goes from 0-100 quite quickly. I’m just not emotionally prepared to argue and fight so I tend to spit and run or resort to the written word. Even that can go wrong. I remember one time I tried to express some feelings to my mom and with the advent of email – the response was instant and so vicious that even my husband and best friend were like DAMN I wouldn’t do that anymore. There’s no fair fighting or conversing or arguing – it just goes straight for the jugular as if we are strangers on the street. It’s so exhausting and just wears me out. So I fear it…immensely.