Well, if you disagree with my use of the word politics, let’s get it out now. I did look it up, but my inner knowing strongly suggested that I use that as my title. I began a post the other day, Thursday morning, about how I was feeling that day and simply titled it “What’s on My Mind.” I had a lot on my mind actually, but little time to share it that day. And now that the moment has passed, I will recap but not reuse the post.
I should start by saying, I am miserable. Utterly flipping miserable. Grief knows no end or boundaries, so it’s like you are in the ocean. You swim to the shallows sometimes, only to be overcome by another wave and washed out to sea. Then you spend the rest of your time swimming back to shore. What for? I wonder. Because I honestly don’t see the point. I visited my mother’s 2nd husband Jerry the other day, and his secretary was asking me a lot of questions. I was very honest with her, and my answers must have surprised him. I say this because he surprised me by saying “I know that you are a survivor.” I don’t bear him any ill will, but this, coming from the man who was the co-creator of a lot of the hell from my childhood, was both an affirmation and a slap in the face. Perhaps divine guidance was speaking through him. Either way, he is correct. But we all have the innate survival instinct embedded in our DNA. All living things do.
Even when you are done, and faced with even one second to rethink things, you choose to survive. That could not have been illustrated better than the season finale of the Walking Dead last week, where Father Gabriel was ready to let himself be “eaten” as I call it by the zombies. But in the second he had in between resolution and action, he changed his mind, fell to the ground after killing it, and cried. Boy could I relate, as that is me several times a day figuratively speaking.
I wonder now, lately, why I write this? I have no idea really anymore, but I know I am supposed to help someone as well as help myself. People regularly ask me if it’s “cathartic.” Of course it is. Seriously, I don’t want any more suffering. Period. End of story. I wouldn’t even proceed to upgrade my credit card from gold to platinum today because it requires a new credit application. My credit is outstanding, but the process just reeks of suffering to me. So forget it. And yes it’s cathartic. I have to get this out somewhere. Yes, I can talk to Shaun. But shit, Shaun is suffering as much as I am so why would I dump my burden on him to carry with his own? I try not to do that. It’s not kind nor is it fair. So we both carry our burdens, quietly most of the time, until something has to be discussed or said and then we cry for a little while.
Perhaps what is most amazing to me is that after this many months, the pain has not lessened at all. None. It’s very powerful, very real, and very deep. I have a new found respect for anyone experiencing PTSD. I have flashbacks and sometimes full color and sound movies playing in my mind, uninvited and unannounced. They are painful. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I was experiencing fear with them like some do. If you ever wondered if this is real, it is real. Very real. It teleports you back to wherever it is that you don’t want to be, hear, or see. I also have a new found respect for anyone suffering from depression. I honestly, never thought it was something you couldn’t “just get over.” Maybe not that simple, but you pull up your bootstraps, realize that everyone suffers, and get on with it right? Tomorrow will be better, right? I extend a heartfelt apology to anyone I have ever, even quietly, misdirected those types of thoughts or words to. This is no joke. I still assume that a person can get over the pain of a bad breakup, but not the loss of your child. And remember, everything is relative to the person who is experiencing the pain.
So I haven’t slept more than 5 hours a night in several days. I lay in bed with sadness for a few hours, fall off to sleep, then wake up with the same. And the “movies.” They invade during those vulnerable hours of the night. I think my brain thinks that if I can just find the moment it slipped away that I can somehow get it back.
I don’t know if I will ever experience any type of closure with this, and I suspect that I will not. But I have definitely ended a cycle. I closed down a contract this past week on Thursday. I had worked in the building 11 years (there’s that 11 again – started that job when Erin was 6 months old). The contract itself was – you guessed it – 7 years old. If I could punch 7 and 11 in the gut I would get some satisfaction from that, trust me. Also, today I closed the joint bank account I had with my mother. It was my last task in that regard.
I have also discovered that I hate my home. Not my house – my home. This house was supposed to be the last one we built or bought, where Erin finished growing up and where her friends could gather with her. Now I can’t stand to even look at the walls. I would sell it now, except I’m pretty sure I can’t bear to dismantle her room yet. And I haven’t got the faintest idea where we would move. We love the area we live in, but that is ruined too. I have to pass the school, her karate studio, and the greenway where we rode bikes runs the length of the road between here and 431. Hell, everything about this is painful. I want a new place with new scenery. It sucks because we have such wonderful neighbors and a great house, but geez, I can’t live here anymore.
I should add that I have also started having flashbacks of my mother’s last moments, which then makes me think of all of the furry babies I have had to escort to their final destinations. This is all so very painful to experience, even in a flashback. Hell, I bet my aura is full of rips and tears and holes from all of this emotional pain.
So I will continue to look for something larger, my spiritual mission for this lifetime, whatever it is. Yeah, big jump from the sadness to that eh? Well there is nothing in between. To paraphrase Sting, I will need to build a bridge because I cannot fill the chasm. I want to be here for a purpose at least, to contribute in some positive way to the all that is, or else I want to be released from this prison of space and time. But that is a topic fro another day.
Namaste, and #missingerin