I haven’t put this out here on MRP, because I frankly didn’t want the pity or the small loss to anonymity, but I now want to put it out there because it may help somebody understand AWALT. And because it’s pussy shit to not put it out there. I’ve taken from this place for months, and I want to give back. I know a couple of you other guys on here have gone through some similar shit, and have the scars to prove it.
So here it is: my son died at a little under a year old last year. He spent a little over a month in the ICU with meningitis, and I could see how poor his hospital course was going. I could see how the seizures were progressively getting worse even on the Phenobarbital. I saw how awful his most recent head MRI was. I saw how my wife was pretty much clueless that we would come to a point where we would have to make a decision to remove care or not. So I slowly prepared her for it. Eventually the time came. The outlook for him was awful. We chose to withdraw care and let him have his peace, and I know we made the right choice.
So I planned the funeral. I wrote his eulogy. I stood up in front of family and friends, and delivered the eulogy. I cremated my boy. I did all of that without shedding a tear in front of a soul. When alone, I screamed at God and the universe. I sobbed and bitched and screeched. I did it right, by my own standards. Until I didn’t do it right….
In December of last year, my wife and I were on a trip together for my work, and it all hit me. All at once. I got low as shit. AND I LET IT SHOW. I got quiet and overtly sad as shit, and I let my sweet, loving, unicorn of a wife see it. I thought that somehow she would be there for me, as I had been there for her. Guess again, fucker: AWALT.
Here’s how she handled it: She wanted to get a plane ticket, and leave me there for my work trip. She framed it as giving me the space I needed, but she literally had no idea how to handle a “man” who was acting like that. She couldn’t know how to handle it. She was so clueless and repulsed that she wanted to buy a fucking ticket to get away from me. And I can’t blame her. I had been strong and stoic through it all, but I slipped one fucking time and she wanted to bail. This is what eventually opened my eyes and led me to this haven of faggots and Wise men (and the fact that we had been heading to a dead bedroom for years). This is what eventually led me to the promise to myself that nobody will ever see me cry again.
This is what you are up against if you think your wife is some kind of unicorn. This shit is as real as it gets. You don't get a break for the worst thing that could ever happen to you. Ask u/johneyapocalypse. If you think your sweet wife will be there for you through thick and thin, you better damn sure be the Oak during those times of thick and thin. She will travel through miles of shit to be there with you, if you have the value she craves. She will also travel through miles of shit to get away from your sorry ass if you slip, even one time. But understand that it doesn’t matter if the direction is down the shit stream, or up the shit stream: You’re alone. Anything else is a compliment to your awesome or shitty life. Might as well make it an awesome life. Be the prize, be your own source of happiness, and live out your mission and vision.