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blackgnat
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Posts posted by blackgnat
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My older son died 5 years ago, homeless, mentally ill, addicted to drugs and alcohol. This kid was the love of my life. I'm still not sure that I have accepted this.
Because he lived several states away, people who knew him didn't know how wretched his life had become. I have had quite a few occasions where I have met people who have asked how he is doing, just out of general interest-for example, teachers who taught him, former work colleagues, etc. I started a job a couple of years ago and I only told one person that he had died. I kept up the pretense of saying he was alive.
I felt ***ty doing this,(like I am denying his existence, or the trauma of what we went through as a family) but I feel that I don't want to see people's reactions when / if I tell them he's dead. I don't want them to feel awkward or embarrassed and I don't want them to pity me.
So, I just started a new job last week and yesterday, my very nice boss asked me how old my sons are. I had the same reaction and just said their ages and that my oldest lives in California and how he has a challenging life. She was very sympathetic and hugged me. For the love of God, I don't know why I'm telling this lie and not just telling the truth and letting them deal with my response.
Then again, people are not going to be asking THAT much about me, so do I owe them that truth? I feel that if I told the truth, they would forget about it anyway, as most people are only concerned with their own lives. Again, I felt that I had not honored my son and felt cowardly. A friend suggested to me that I go back to my boss and tell her that I lied and that he is dead-but again, I think that's making too much of this issue and it might create a kind of distrust. I don't even know this woman, why should I feel the need to spill my guts?
What do you think and can anyone understand my point of view?
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This is a little depressing for me because I am top heavy and I have been reading more often that my breast size is a turn off to a lot of guys...seriously, TiredMan, how can you expect that large breasts can be truly perky? If they're natural?
I wonder if I would be perceived as GROTESQUE to some guys? I've lived with these hooters for years and you just can't know what a burden they are. When I tell other women my problems about clothes fitting properly, vigorous sports activities being out of the question, guys looking at my funbags and not my face, etc, I often get..."Oh, you're so lucky! People pay good money to have their breasts enlarged to your size". It's really not that cool to not have seen your feet for years, as well as all the other probs.
I'm just sayin'.
Do I owe new people in my life the truth about my son's death?
in Grief Loss and Bereavement
Posted
Hey there, everyone! First of all, I must thank all of you for replying to my original post, with thoughtful and interesting replies and opinions.
I have taken many of them to heart, to the extent that I had to face some of my demons, or at least be prepared to meet them halfway.
A couple of days ago I was with my boss and the time seemed right (it was weighing on my mind, as we were talking about Mother's day, family, etc.) I told her that I need to clear something up and that I was embarrassed about having told a lie. Then I said my son had died 5 years ago and that it was a difficult subject for me to address, especially with new people.
She was very supportive, sympathetic and said she understood why I had lied. She wanted to see a photo of him and also told some stories of people in her life who had died. I ended up feeling much better about it all and have since been truthful when co-workers have asked me about my family, etc.
It always kinda blows my mind that we are able to distill a tragic situation into a brief sentence of 3-5 words.
To the woman whose daughter was murdered, I feel such sympathy for you. I have, in the past, "consoled" myself with the knowledge that things could have been so much worse. My son lived such a dangerous lifestyle that it is a miracle that he was not murdered or God forbid, held captive in somebody's basement, tortured to death. I too saw my child in his "casket"- a cardboard box and I couldn't believe it was him. If anyone doubts the existence of a soul, you just have to see a dead body to know that the essence of who that person was is GONE. The body is a house for the soul, nothing more.
I'm going to leave it here, maybe to revisit the situation, because I know it will come up again and I may revert to the comfort zone of denying his death (but, ugh, that makes me feel bad) if I decide that I don't "owe" people the truth, because I barely know them. Actually, having typed that, I do feel that I will be honest in the future, because as we have so often heard, the truth will set you free.