Midlife: What the F*ck

I am trying out something new because why not?

We talk a lot about midlife crises or midlife awakenings. I turned 40 right at the beginning of the Covid lockdown. 

I did not have that big 40th celebration for obvious reasons, and when I turned 41, I wanted to make up for that. At the time, I felt our life in Florida was winding down. My parents had moved from Florida back to South Dakota. One of my dear friends also moved away, and I no longer felt connected. So we decided to put our house on the market. Due to Covid, many worked from home. It was more accessible for people to work remotely, and many relocated. We eventually moved to South Carolina. 

I turned 42, and we went on vacation to the mountains; three months later, in late August, I had a medical emergency, possibly a TIA; to this day, they're not sure what kind of stroke-like occurrence happened. From that moment on, my health deteriorated to the point that I could hardly walk or function. We didn't know what was wrong with me. There were many days I would lay on the bathroom floor crying because I thought I was dying and I didn't know what was happening to me. 

After months and months and months of specialists and, bloodwork, and procedures, I was diagnosed in March of 2022 with Small Fiber Neuropathy and Pernicious Anemia. It was unclear what kind of neuropathy was in my face, but my neurologist deduced Trigeminal because my symptoms were a bit different than my feet, hands, and spine. I decided to close my apothecary business in June because I wanted to take the summer to figure out the following steps to healing. We also knew I had an autoimmune disease but didn't know which one it was. 

In early August, my Dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and during that time, my grandpa was ill and in a nursing home. I was losing two of the men who were important figures in my life, and our family needed to relocate back to South Dakota immediately. 

It wasn't fast enough. 

We moved home at the beginning of December 2022. Unfortunately, by that time, Grandpa had passed. I mean, we missed him by three weeks, but he and I were able to speak on the phone before he could no longer. 

It was devastating, and our focus was to spend as much time with Dad as possible. I was his End-of-Life Doula.

And I wouldn't have had it any other way. 

I recently turned 44. 

Dad passed away on July 7, 2023, so this was my first birthday without him. Also, Mother's Day was a couple of days later. I didn't know how I would feel or react during that time, and it was gut-wrenching. 

I was in the midst of a nasty flare-up. 

Oh, also, I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's disease two months ago, and my system is attacking my thyroid. 

Super. 

So now here I am, 44, and all I can think of is midlife, not awakening, not crisis, but what the fuck.

midlife, what the fuck. 

You know, they always talk about when you turn 40, and all of this weird stuff begins to happen. I know people who have moved across the globe and ended their marriages or relationships. Let's be clear: I'm not doing that, but they figured out what makes them happy or are on a mission to figure it out. Upon doing so, especially when women do this, many will look at them and say, "Oh my God, they're having a midlife crisis."

"Oh my, they've lost their minds." 

"What's going on with them?" 

"What's wrong? They should remain married and stay where they're at." 

"They should live by their kids." 

They should do this and that because everybody has an opinion, but we don't know exactly what's happening in their lives. 

Social Media is a lie. 

It's a mirage. 

We make people see what they want to see; it's false perfection. 

I am now in a position where I understand when people say hey, let's pack up and move to Italy, not that we're doing that. I live vicariously through House Hunters International, but now I am in this midlife era, the what the fuck era.

 I never thought at 44 I would have such immense health issues, and I certainly didn't think my Dad would be dead. There is so much that has altered my life, thinking, DNA, everything, and I look back at photos or posts from eight years ago, six years ago, or even four years ago, and I don't recognize that woman. I hardly recognize her from last year.

I am 44, with chronic pain and illness. I have one parent earthside; I dread when my husband or son leaves the house. I want to put them in a bubble and protect them. Really, that's nothing new, especially with Logan and his early life, which he spent much of in the children's hospital. 

I'm not afraid of death. 

It's not that; it's that I want to live my life with them. I want us to live our lives with such appreciation, love, and value, which we do, but I don't want to focus on the garbage that transpires around us—all the nonsense and noise. 

I wrote during pre-diagnosis, and I called it a midlife awakening, and maybe a little bit of what is happening to me now is more of an awakening, but I also think it's a realization of having death come so close to me; I don't want to have regrets. I made that promise to Dad.

It's more of midlife; what the fuck? It truly is because we've been hit with too much upheaval in the past handful of years that it's seriously WTF. 

Dad and I always had very inappropriate, dark humor, especially in times of crisis. It was our go-to, even when he was sick during that time. We had humorous banter and dark humor conversations, which I'm sure some people in the Cancer Center were like, oh my goodness, but it's who we were, it's who we are. 

My viewpoint and beliefs on things have changed quite drastically, and I'm still trying to figure all that out, too, so it's honestly a midlife what the fuck. I don't even have a better term for it because that's precisely what it is. 

There's so much that's transpired, and there are days when I'm thinking about certain things over the past couple of years, and I cry and laugh simultaneously. I sound and look unhinged. I am confident that many have read my posts or Substack and thought, wow, she's gone off the woo woo deep end, or since her Dad died, she's gone sideways or gone another direction or whatever it is, and I have read that in other places not directed toward me but directed toward others who their parent(s) have died. The Dead Dad's Club is rotten, not the people in it but that we are part of it and one that I did not think I would be welcomed at this age. 

Dad had various health issues over the years, and I always had it in the back of my mind that I would not have him here long-term, but you never really expect it to happen or the way it did; nobody does. Nobody expects their loved one to be diagnosed with terminal cancer. Oh, and by the way, you have a year or less to figure it all out, to process, to go through all of the intense horrific emotions, and it's astounding to me for people to say we should process that quickly. 

And I'm supposed to be okay. 

Not for me, for society. 

How in the world would I be okay watching a man who was like God to me as a child die? 

I will never be okay with that.  

Never.

And thinking otherwise is ridiculous. 

The anticipatory grief when he was here and now the grief that he is dead is indescribable. 

It's a pain that decimates my heart on the daily. 

Many days, I sit and can't believe it happened because now I'm at a point of truly processing. I'm no longer in survival mode, and the grief and the fatigue of my health is like a karate kick to my gut and my chest, and it comes out of nowhere and and knocks me down hard.

Now, I'm not saying that my life is horrendous. 

It's not. 

I have an incredible husband who is beyond supportive, loves me deeply, and cares for me with every cell of his being. 

I have a healthy, happy son who is finding his way in this world because even though I've gone through all of this, so has he, and that's a lot to absorb at 23, even more so for someone who is Neurodivergent. My Mom is here, only 7 minutes away. I'm close to Grandma Betty and Aunt Brita. There's a lot of good; most days, the good supersedes the not-so-fabulous.  

Gratitude is abundant, and there is grief, pain, and sorrow; I won't ignore or dismiss that either. 

I don't know how I'll feel about Dad's birthday, which is Wednesday. Last night, I watched our neighbor on their deck while I washed dishes. He held his baby daughter; you could see the love between them. Before I knew it, the sobs escaped. Logan rushed upstairs and wrapped his arms around me. When Phil is out of town, Logan is on high alert. 

I feel older than 44.

I've experienced a lot of life in these 44 years: many challenges, emergencies, and deaths. I've learned much about myself, especially this past year watching Dad progressively get worse. It's mind-altering when you watch someone you love so profoundly, who is your superhero, watch their tremendous pain and suffering; there wasn't anything I could do. 

It's awful. 

Zero stars. 

I do not recommend it, but throughout it all, I have stood my ground and will continue to do so; with all this messiness, love, and dear God, what am I doing? 

I keep going. 

Midlife.

Wow. 

It's a strange place.

WTF.