Broken Heart Syndrome

I’ve got Broken Heart Syndrome. I don’t even know if there is such a thing or not. It seems like I read about it a few years ago. My doctors have diagnosed me with anxiety and depression. I feel like many of my physical conditions come from my broken heart.

Looking back on my life, I realize that my heart was first broken at a very young age. I have a memory of me and my mother and sister in the back seat of a taxi. Mama had packed things in bed sheets and she had taken my sister and me by the hand and led us to the taxi when it pulled up to the curb. I remember crying in terror and clinging to my teddy bear. My father, who had rushed me out into the cold the year I had both pneumonia and whooping cough, because the cold air would jolt me back into breathing when I would stop . . . as the taxi drove us away, my father came running onto the porch and watched us as we left. That’s my first memory of my heart breaking.

There were many more broken heart memories in childhood. The teen years brought their own. I’m not talking about when some boy decided he didn’t like me anymore, but liked another girl in the classroom better . . . I’m talking about when my dog’s puppies drowned during a storm when I was 12 or 13 years old. I’m talking about when my sister’s baby boy died just before Christmas when I was 16 years old. We buried him on Christmas Eve.

I could go on and on about all the times my heart got broken throughout the years, but then you’d possibly be depressed too, so why do that? From time to time I sit down at this keyboard and type out a memory in an attempt to get it out of my head.

I’ve tried everything I know to repair my broken heart. I think it’s just broken in too many places, and I might as well give up. It’s just broken. Broken beyond repair.

author’s note: Being a researcher, I typed in broken heart syndrome to see if I’d read about it before. I ended up finding this term “taktsubo cardiomyopathy”.



Did Jesus have to stand by helplessly as someone he loved suffered and died?

Did Jesus know the feelings of loss of a mother who succumbed to some disease?

Did Jesus ever watch his child suffer from illness and die?

These questions have filled my mind today. Jesus carried with him the power to calm the seas, raise the dead, heal the sick, make the blind see, etc.

Jesus walked on earth and many preachers have said afterwards God was more gentle with mankind. The God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament were not the same in many ways. Their attitudes towards mankind were not the same because God had experienced the world as Jesus.

But did he really experience the excruciating pain of loss, knowing he was helpless to do anything to help or save someone he loved?

That is my question today.

We are told that there is life after death and we will be reunited with loved ones. Jesus would even have had the certainty of that knowledge, while we are expected to accept it on faith.

I don’t think Jesus got the whole picture of what it is truly like to be on earth and helpless to change many things that come our way.

Jesus was never helpless. He chose to rebuke the devil. He chose to remain on the cross. He had choices the average human will never have.

I Don’t Have To Love You

Older Americans complain about the aging process frequently. I sort of enjoy it most days. One of the things I like best is how much clearer my view of  life is now and how much better I understand it.

I’ve always loved with my whole heart and soul. I foolishly thought if I loved someone that much, they must be very special and everything would be all right. I’ve learned better. Sometimes I’ve loved people who have turned out to be lying to me, or using me, and it took awhile to figure it out.

I try to be honest in my dealings with other people. I have thought that my honesty might have been one of my defects that gave the other person more access to my heart and soul. I opened myself up for manipulation perhaps at times.

My heart has been broken many times. One time I thought it was broken so badly that I’d never find all the pieces and put it back together, but then I saw my children watching and knew that I had to find a way . . . .

So my heart is back in one piece, more or less, but I am very, very careful who gets a spot in it. My pendulum of caring may have swung too far in the other direction, but it will eventually righten itself.

I don’t know why when someone stands before you and you know they love you, that you would use that love to manipulate and take advantage of them. Many do just that. I don’t know if it’s because they feel unworthy of the love, or because they’re just mean, lying, scheming people who can’t imagine that anything they’d do would cause you to quit loving them.

They’re wrong. I’ve quit loving many people that I loved in the past. I hope they’ve noticed, but if they haven’t, it doesn’t matter to me. They don’t matter to me. Yes, my niece, and others, to whom I would have given my last whatever it was she said she needed . . . now have zero access to my heart. You have no idea what she’s capable of. I do.

She’s not the only one. She’s just one of the worst ones.

They say everyone you meet is either a blessing or a lesson. I learned a lot from her betrayal and . . . I don’t even know the word for someone who does what she did. Unloveable comes to mind.

I don’t have to love you. I don’t have to love anyone. My birthday is tomorrow and that’s one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in this lifetime. It took almost a lifetime to figure it out. My love is a gift. If you mistreat it, I’ll just keep it for myself. I need love too.