Sigh. So much has happened and changed in the last 16 months that I am not even sure I know where to start or if I should even bother starting. I have lost so much that is me that I don't know who I am anymore. And I don't know where to start to rebuild myself.
Tony, my spouse of 20 years, my support, friend and foe died 10/28/13. And along with him a lot of my identity. No longer am I allowed to call myself "wife". I used to fuss because everyone around the AC knew me as "Tony's wife". No name, ever. No separate existence. Just "Tony's wife". Used to make me so mad because dammit, I am a person. I am one-of-a-kind just like the rest of you fuckers. I am Angie. I am. I am. I am "Tony's wife". Damn. Ah, but they don't tell you after your spouse dies that you are no longer allowed to call yourself a wife. You become a widow. I even wrote about it. Now, I am not ashamed because I am a widow. I fulfilled my vows. Till death, bitches. I roll hardcore. But after about a year, I started figuring out, not everyone likes the word widow. It makes them uncomfortable. It makes them look away. Or even worse it makes them look at me with pity. I don't need their pity or your pity or anyone's pity. I do need some understanding, however. See, I haven't been this person before. I haven't been this widow. I have only been "Tony's wife" and I lost that title when he died. Now, when I fill out forms, I am not allowed to choose married. Most forms don't even have the choice widowed, oddly enough. Like it's not a word or a thing. Either you are married or not married or don't fucking exist in this damn world. I usually still choose Mrs. because dammit that is what I am. I am a Mrs. I am too old to be a Ms. and I don't have a ding-a-ling so I am no Mr. I gave up my Ms. at a very young age. I don't identify with a Ms. But even then I think people believe I am mistaken because I have to choose single on the rest of the paper so I end up being Ms. in the end. And I don't even want to talk about emergency contact information. People, the struggle is real. The first time I went to the Dr and had to change my emergency contact I cried. Now, I am usually numb and can save my tears until I am alone. Tony promised me when I got old and had to go the the home he wouldn't let them tuck my feet in or feed me foods I didn't like and make them understand I am a night owl and like to sleep late. I like a fan for noise and all the lights out. He promised me those things. But, well, that's just not how life worked out. He also promised me he wouldn't leave me but I am pretty sure he didn't have much control over leaving.
I had a vertical sleeve gastrectomy in the last part of June. I had decided it was time to do something about my weight. I had gotten so big that I couldn't really do anything. Walking killed me. Sitting killed me and it was time. So, I chose to remove my stomach. Well, I lost that identity too. I no longer can eat and eat and eat until I die. Well, most foods I can't eat and eat and eat. There are those few foods I can hoover up a good amount. But I lost my fat girl status I thought. But then maybe I didn't. I just traded it in. I am an oxymoron. I am a fat girl that can't eat. I am an anomaly. I'm still grossly over-weight and I can't freakin' eat. I snack and graze a lot because I make all the healthy choices. But eating, nope. On a good meal I can eat 1/4-3/4 a taco. Or about 3/4 a hamburger bun with soft meat on it. Hard, heavy meat about 1/2 a burger. Sometimes, I can eat a decent portion of food. I eat more like an average sized girl but I am still fat. I lost the ability to comfort eat. I am 127 lbs down. I lost the oslen twins. It's hard for me not to compare my journy to everyone elses. Today I read about one of the girls that had lost 200 lbs in 7 months. I want that kind of weight loss. 200 lbs and I would be close to my goal. Sigh.
And in Sept my hospital closed. 10 years of work and it closed. 10 years of laughter and tears, gone. Gone in 2.5 hours and I haven't recovered. A lot of my friends haven't either. I mean we have new jobs or other jobs but that feeling, that loss, well. We still struggle. We loved that stupid hospital. Our hospital that was, what we thought, too dumb to die.
I have a lot of good things in my life. In July, I started seeing someone and eventually it turned into tender feelings and from there love. So, now I am a girlfriend. Haven't been one of those in a long time, really, never, ever. It's a learning experience for sure. Tony took the lead when we dated. He had dated a lot prior to me and knew what he was doing. So, I just followed his lead. Now, well, Robbie and I just kind of fumble along and hope for the best.
I am a new employee with a nice new job but I haven't been new in a long time. It's hard to be new and not be new at the same time. When I was new at my hospital I was still young and eager. Now I am sad and have my own ways of doing things. My confidence is shaken and I am having growing pains. I don't know the inside jokes and who works well with who. Mostly, my new job has been a blessing. I needed a job and it's basically a place that I am used to working. It's small and I already know some of the staff and patients but it is still new. And I am trying hard to find myself.
So, now I struggle with who I am. Who is this Angie person. What does
she like, dislike and want to do with her life? No clue. None. Do I like
skulls and metal-ish type music? Am I really a gamer and a nerd or just
a poser? I have no clue really. None. Am I still a nurse now that my
hospital closed? Am I still a fat girl if I can't eat? Who am I?