...is my mantra. Februarys..for unknown reasons...maybe karma...are bad for me. Here is a litany:
February, 1955: Father dies. I was barely 8. Loved him dearly and it was (obviously!) very traumatic.
February, 1955: End of my pleasant relationship with my family. I was (by my mother) blamed for my father's death..and at barely 8, believed her. Worried for years about my "power to kill", and, since I didn't quite know how I "did it the first time", was always worried I'd do it again! Yikes!
February 1966: A GOOD thing. Got engaged. (Got married in June, 1968.)
February, 1982: Found out that I had been adopted, a long-time family secret...known by everyone but me! I'd suspected something like that..but hearing about it was....rather shocking....to say the least. Think about the challenges to re-frame your life: the people you thought were your parents, weren't. In my case, since it was an "in-family" adoption, figure out that the people you thought were your aunt/uncle are in fact your biological parents; the people you thought were brothers are in fact cousins, the people who you thought were parents are really aunt/uncle...and at the same time, being extorted by newly-discovered sibling/cousins...who had found me to tell me this news because they wanted $$ from me. Fat chance.
February 1983: Found out I had MS. If there is any truth to the theory that "stress" or "a shock" can lead to autoimmune disorders, I'm a poster child. The diagnosis came one year to the month of finding out my "true life story"...a year of lots of turmoil... Got to spend Valentine's Day in the hospital with my first serious exacerbation..to be released 3 months later.
February 1985: My boss started giving me all sorts of grief about how I wasn't doing my job. I probably wasn't -- spent all that time in the hospital, got out, and tried to return to work, but dealing with 2-3 exacerbations a year, serious health stuff..I was out more than in. He'd tolerated it about as much as he could...then starting giving me heck. He was right, but it was still pretty traumatic. We had been (and once again are) good friends, and I felt pretty betrayed. Anyway, I ended up quitting in the summer of this year, moving back to Wisconsin (my home territory).
February 1986: Was told by my mother that if I "insisted on coming to visit me, leave your crutches at home! You stumbled last time you were here and scratched my walls!". I didn't go visit.
February 1987: I guess I don't learn. Again planned a parental visit. Again told, "What, you're coming in a wheelchair? That'll ruin my rugs! MUST you come?" I didn't. Relationship with mother, long strained (see second entry), now irretrievably broken.
February 1995: Find out from one brother that mother is dying of lung cancer. She, a long-time smoker, had emphesema, congestive heart failure (which I'd known about), and now lung cancer. She still doesn't want me to visit as "you're in that darned chair, always wanting attention, and I'm not well enough to deal with it!" So I didn't go. She died in December of this year.
February 1997: Another GOOD thing. Inherit $$ from mother. (A long and painful story there that I won't bore you with...but the good news is the $$, enabling me to not have to worry..so much..about long-term health and wellness issues.)
February 1997: Another GOOD thing. (Maybe karma has switched???) We find this house that we eventually bought and moved in, later in the summer. A sort of dream house. At least we think so.
February 2001: My beloved Shadow Cat dies, after a long illness. But the GOOD stuff: We adopt Cindy and Cassie Cat from the shelter, and not long after that, Tuffy shows up at the door.
February 2003: TabbyGrey shows up in the yard, and after a few months of luring him in, becomes yet another housecat (4 is plenty. I DO hope no others show up, because they'll end up inside too, and 4 really IS plenty).
February 2008: Here we are...nothing traumatic happening since 2003 and now. And maybe I can finally actually celebrate my (61st) birthday today without "waiting for the other shoe" -- some traumatic event -- to happen. Do you think? :)
...I am not a doctor, nor health professional, and don't pretend to be one, here.....