Other blogs led to this culmination, and now there is one. Roughly nine years ago, I helped my husband, Terry, face cancer and then death. As he was a high-profile leader in his industry, I created a blog for public consumption. For myself and people who care about me, there was a much more private site.
Public site: Keeping up with Terry Williams
My personal site: Curse of the Caregiver
As Terry was actively dying, my mother, Sue, had come to stay and lend a hand with the kids. She lived in a guest bedroom in Terry’s immense home, and at first, her way of making coffee, cleaning the kitchen and dozens of other things rubbed Terry the wrong way. Just a handful of weeks later, she became the only person who could rub Terry the right way. After each brutal whole brain radiation treatment, she spent hours behind his hospital bed gently massaging Terry’s scalp as his hair came off in clumps. Nobody else could bring him relief, and she was so happy to do it. At the same time, her own dementia symptoms began to surface, and so Terry’s death was not the end of my stint as an advocate and caregiver.
Sue Vaughan’s site: Deeper Circles
And so, perhaps it’s time to write about myself. A lot has happened since I lost both of these people that meant so much to me. There’s been grief, comfort, laughter, curiosity and joy… everything you’d expect. However, there has been some real darkness and confusion in my life, and I have reason to call into question who I really am. To answer this question, I am embarking on two journeys that I hope will merge into one in time. First, a nationwide summer road trip to explore new places, build a guitar, visit friends and reconnect with my true self. Second, a fearless examination of traumas that have had a devastating effect on me. I honestly did not know that past pain had manifested itself in some highly destructive behavior that has only become more pronounced in recent years. I did not know because when these incidents happen, punctuated by furious anger and vitriolic verbal abuse, I have literally no memory of them.
Truth is, something is very wrong with me. There have been signs since I was a teenager, but I never fully believed it until now. This thing has cost me nearly every single relationship that I hold dear, and a few months ago, the person I consider to be ‘my person’ finally gave up as well. He and I were supposed to grow old together, and I am devastated. The worst part is that, apparently, I am the one who directly caused all the damage. And so, I am undergoing treatment for Dissociative Identity Disorder, and the prospect is daunting.
So, yes. Look at my colorful website. At first glance, it looks like everything else on social media and a billion happy blogs. I won’t be giving advice, sharing recipes or reviewing beauty products here. And if you care enough to have read this far, you are one of a handful that are invited to see behind the curtain. Updates will be posted on the ‘wellness’ page, and I’ll probably tell you everything if you care to click. There’s no point in keeping it hidden, right?
I never really wanted to be anyone’s caregiver. Now, in truth, I will become my own caregiver. It’s a good thing I (sorta) know what I’m doing. I have a feeling I will be my most challenging patient.
Travel, Write, Repeat 