Yesterday was an exceedingly bad day. I think I cried nearly all day. I have this awful feeling in my chest, and in the pit of my stomach. At one point I watched videos of Erin, the few that I had, on my phone. At the end of one, I sort of yelled at her for using my phone because I had already told her not to. I felt really bad watching that, because the video she was recording of her room and stuff was so sweet.
I titled this post Losing My Religion not because I am religious, but because I have all but shut the door on my own spiritual path of the last ~13 years. In short, I had to “find myself” so to speak and then I embarked on a strong Service to Others path. You can look that up on Google. I learned to transmute negative emotions into compassion and to thus raise my vibration. Then I wanted to help others. It wasn’t pretty but I did a pretty good job and was committed. I was connected to the Universe (to explain it in the simplest way). And now, I’m left with pain and suffering. I could compare myself with countless martyrs I suppose. I am having a pity party, and I intend to own it and fully admit to it.
I still feel bad today. No, I’m not suicidal but trust me death would be kinder. But it’s not my luck. I will probably live to be 100 years old. I realize I am being unfair to Shaun in wishing for death, but really I am wishing for an end to this horrible pain I am feeling. I cannot logically see an end until I pass from this plane of existence. The emotions will probably follow me for lifetimes and will be encoded into my DNA and that of my soul family. I wish that I wasn’t passing on that to anyone else, but maybe there is value in it somewhere.
I know I have said this, but everywhere there are memories of Erin. I read something about losing a parent, you lose the past. Losing a spouse, you lose the present. But losing a child, you lose your future. I think that is pretty accurate and whomever came up with it is pretty clever. But no one knows how this feels unless you have lost your own. And people, they do not know what to say. So I try to graciously say “thank you” to each of them but the truth is that no one knows if she is or isn’t suffering, or if she’s in a better place, or if I even share your particular beliefs about the afterlife. You say those things because it makes you feel better to try and comfort me. And I appreciate that you take the time and the effort to do that, and that you care enough to do so. She is not here with me, however, and so there is nothing that will make me feel any better about any of this. Probably ever. I know I am selfish to want to control what path her spirit took her on, but she is not here with me. And honestly, I can’t get over that. I’m not sure I even want to. No matter what I do, or where I go, there will always be the lingering thought of “Erin would have liked this.”
I am angry now. I was not angry before, or maybe not cognizant of my anger, but I am angry now. I have the tools, I know all of the stuff – everything that happens was for a reason; our souls chose this before we were born; blah blah blah. If you are a religious person maybe you assign different phrasing – it was god’s plan; blah blah blah. I have told people these things so many times, during counseling sessions, personal conversations, etc. Now they just sound damn stupid. And my retort back to the Universe is – I DON’T CARE. I don’t give a damn. I have given my all to be of service to others, and to be a good, kind, decent person, and this is what I get out of it? Nice way to keep me on board. Because if this is some sort of test, it’s one that might kill me. Her memory is just too much to bear.
Since this particular topic is supposed to be about Erin’s memory…We were invited to dinner with a friend and his mother for his birthday last night in Guntersville. On the way back, I thought of how much Erin liked Cathedral Caverns. On her first visit, I bought her a hematite necklace. A few years later she broke it and cried. Shaun took her back again and she got something else, but anyway, I remember the necklace.
On our bike ride this morning I was thinking of how hard she would pedal to keep up, even though we would move much more slowly. I thought of she and I in the pool when we passed. The last few months when we would go, she would wrap her legs and arms around me and would be so sweet as I carried her around the shallow end of the pool. I wish we weren’t always in such a hurry to get here and there, so I could have enjoyed things more. Our entire lives, looking back, seemed to be a rush. I’m really sorry for that now. None of it matters. The things we had to do, we really did not have to.
We donated some of our things and her things today to the Market for A New Leash on Life (707 Andrew Jackson Way). Sent over all of our Halloween stuff, our Xmas tree, and some other things we had already marked for donation before we left for Iowa. Looking at the Halloween stuff made me a bit sad, but there were only a few very sentimental things. There was a snow globe that she got in 2004, her first Halloween. There was a bat that I think we had before she was born but she loved it, along with “Draculi” as she called him (one of the pictures on the obituary site has her holding him. A door hanger she made, and a black cat door hanger that was mine but I gave to her. We donated “Skeleti” the talking skeleton. He was too big to keep and someone else needs to enjoy him. I realized at the last minute I could not let go of her Halloween and Valentine’s place mats. She loved them. Had one for each season/holiday. I also kept her favorite trick or treat bucket. I guess I know all of her most favorite things, or most of them.
Oh, one more thing. I cannot validate that exercise is good for depression. I managed to cry on at least half of my bike ride both yesterday and today, and did not feel one ounce better after than I did before. I feel a tad bit better now after reading some humorous Cracked articles and then writing this. I also don’t get any enjoyment from food anymore (well maybe I will finally lose some weight), and I’m sure I am terrible company. If you read this far, bless you, because I am observing how bitter I sound and am. Or maybe cynical is the word? Hopeless? I’m all out of words, and do not know.