Today the sadness caught up to me... the day started out like any other; lots of things on the to-do list, a full pot of coffee - I even took a shower and got dressed for work! And what happened? Out of nowhere, I began to feel like no matter what my intentions, I was being pulled down, down, down - inside my head. And my head wasn't in a very good place.
I was speaking with a friend earlier this evening, about all the changes in my life since the Bunny died. Sure, it's a lot for a person to go through; but I have been going through it and "doing well" based on most people's evaluations of my progress. My friend was telling me that it was understandable that I still loved the Bunny, and that I will "move on" when I'm ready... but the thing is, it's not loving the Bunny that is holding me back. What's holding me back is that I loved my life. That one the Bunny I shared together. Even though I have been moving forward, and making changes, and picking up pieces, and figuring out things that I want to be doing - the truth is, every step I take forward takes me one step further away from that life I used to have, the life I loved. The life where I was... happy. Fulfilled. Content. Cared for. Complete.
It makes me wonder, on my journey to this new identity... if I create a new life, a life that I love as much as I loved that other one - does that mean I really didn't love that old life? That I only believed I was happy and it wasn't true? That I was faking it? Had the Bunny still been around, would I have eventually grown tired of being with him and we would have split up sooner or later? If I create a new life, a life that I love as much as I loved that other one - is that betraying the Bunny's memory? As if to say I don't really miss him? As if to say... it was merely inconvenient that he died, but look at me, I've gotten over it?
I guess if I had to put my finger on it, I would have to say I'm feeling guilty for being happy. I realize that if the Bunny were here, he would be the first to tell me that his hope would be that I was successful in finding my way back to happiness. And because that's what he would want, I would naturally want the same thing. But feeling it is quite a different thing than simply wanting to feel it. It's kind of like eating a big slice of German chocolate cake, and then feeling bad because you've completely blown the diet (and if you are a teenaged girl, your immediate reaction is wanting to stick your finger down your throat).
It's the end of the day, and I am back on the upswing. By the time I wake up tomorrow, I know I will be in my more normal, postive frame of mind. I will have lots of things on the to-do list, I'll brew a full pot of coffee, I'll take a shower and get dressed for work. The difference will be I have a training class and a few meetings to attend, which will put me around people. Being around people reminds me that I am alive, and that my presence in the world matters. Somebody, tomorrow, is going to smile at me, and I am going to smile back... and taking that small step, I will feel happy.
And feeling it is quite a different thing than simply wanting to feel it.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Redirecting..
I haven't felt very inspired to write lately... I find this fact interesting because it feels to me like ever since Liz died, the thoughts in my head have been very muddled. It's like I can't focus on anything specific - there's a lot going on in my world, and my brain has simply "checked out" and is being carried downstream with the current.
I have less than three weeks left of school, something I am latching onto as the turning point closest on my horizon. I say things like "oh yeah, I'm going to do 'x' after I finish school..." because I imagine that I will have more time to spare when no longer obligated to write papers every week, do daily posts to meet online requirements - at least, I am hoping I will have more time once school ends. My plan had always been to ramp up working (as in "income-generating" work) to coincide with completing my degree - as one came to an end, the other would carry on. Kind of like chain smoking, I suppose. But at least these activities would keep me doing something legitimate. Instead of hanging around the house all day in my pajamas.
My instincts tell me that my life is once again preparing to shift. I feel it; there isn't any evidence, no logic to my reasoning, but I have this very distinct feeling that I need to NOT make any sudden moves, now more than ever. It's difficult, because I feel restless... it's not like I don't have enough to do - there's always something to do - but I think, related to my lack of inspiration, my mind is simply not engaged in anything right now. It in "survival" mode. I equate it to eating a bunch of junk food, and your body suffers because it gets no nutrients from eating like that... you might get a jolt of sugar that revs you up for an hour or two, and then you crash hard. So you might get through the day like that, but when it's all said and done you are pretty much going to feel like shit.
In other news, my kid - with the help of one of his good buddies - is applying for a few classes at our local community college. Christopher has been focused on enlisting in the Marines - which technically I don't have a problem with - but one of my friends recently pointed out that what with all the global unrest, chances are good that he would be sent into combat. I certainly wouldn't want that to happen. I tell Christopher on occasion to think about the impact on me, his mom, if he goes off and gets himself killed. Selfish, I know - but historically kids tend to not listen to stuff their parents say anyways, so I have to hook into things that work for me. Emotions. Like guilt. Guilt is very effective. It can make all sorts of people do all sorts of things they might not have done otherwise.
I miss being able to call Liz up and tell her about the goings on in my life. Every so often I think "oh, I need to call Liz up and..." then I remember: there IS no calling Liz up, not anymore. That still sucks big time for me. I do find that it makes me feel better hanging around Billy, trying to help him navigate through some of the to-do's that naturally occur when someone dies, listening to him talk and telling him what I am thinking - we both still talk about Liz like she is here with us. I notice the family does that as well. Liz's mom was over at Billy's the other day along with Liz's sister, going through some of Liz's clothes to donate to the battered women's shelter, and I heard her make a comment about Liz - something in the present tense. And all of a sudden her voice cut off, as if she realized that everything about Liz was now past tense - I wasn't watching her face as she was speaking, but I felt the weight of her realization. And it broke my heart.
This is the reality I try to help families understand when I sit down and work with them on life insurance and advanced planning stuff. We can negotiate the numbers and coverage and services and monthly premium payments till the cows come home, but what I really try to get across to a person is the fact that when he or she dies, their loved ones will be devastated. There is no better word to describe it. And because death is one of those taboo subjects that most people don't want to think seriously about, I run across people all the time that are really offhand in their treatment of the whole discussion. Which, from my perspective, pisses me off of course... but I realize, that's why MY job is so important.
We'll see where life finds me three weeks from now...
I have less than three weeks left of school, something I am latching onto as the turning point closest on my horizon. I say things like "oh yeah, I'm going to do 'x' after I finish school..." because I imagine that I will have more time to spare when no longer obligated to write papers every week, do daily posts to meet online requirements - at least, I am hoping I will have more time once school ends. My plan had always been to ramp up working (as in "income-generating" work) to coincide with completing my degree - as one came to an end, the other would carry on. Kind of like chain smoking, I suppose. But at least these activities would keep me doing something legitimate. Instead of hanging around the house all day in my pajamas.
My instincts tell me that my life is once again preparing to shift. I feel it; there isn't any evidence, no logic to my reasoning, but I have this very distinct feeling that I need to NOT make any sudden moves, now more than ever. It's difficult, because I feel restless... it's not like I don't have enough to do - there's always something to do - but I think, related to my lack of inspiration, my mind is simply not engaged in anything right now. It in "survival" mode. I equate it to eating a bunch of junk food, and your body suffers because it gets no nutrients from eating like that... you might get a jolt of sugar that revs you up for an hour or two, and then you crash hard. So you might get through the day like that, but when it's all said and done you are pretty much going to feel like shit.
In other news, my kid - with the help of one of his good buddies - is applying for a few classes at our local community college. Christopher has been focused on enlisting in the Marines - which technically I don't have a problem with - but one of my friends recently pointed out that what with all the global unrest, chances are good that he would be sent into combat. I certainly wouldn't want that to happen. I tell Christopher on occasion to think about the impact on me, his mom, if he goes off and gets himself killed. Selfish, I know - but historically kids tend to not listen to stuff their parents say anyways, so I have to hook into things that work for me. Emotions. Like guilt. Guilt is very effective. It can make all sorts of people do all sorts of things they might not have done otherwise.
I miss being able to call Liz up and tell her about the goings on in my life. Every so often I think "oh, I need to call Liz up and..." then I remember: there IS no calling Liz up, not anymore. That still sucks big time for me. I do find that it makes me feel better hanging around Billy, trying to help him navigate through some of the to-do's that naturally occur when someone dies, listening to him talk and telling him what I am thinking - we both still talk about Liz like she is here with us. I notice the family does that as well. Liz's mom was over at Billy's the other day along with Liz's sister, going through some of Liz's clothes to donate to the battered women's shelter, and I heard her make a comment about Liz - something in the present tense. And all of a sudden her voice cut off, as if she realized that everything about Liz was now past tense - I wasn't watching her face as she was speaking, but I felt the weight of her realization. And it broke my heart.
This is the reality I try to help families understand when I sit down and work with them on life insurance and advanced planning stuff. We can negotiate the numbers and coverage and services and monthly premium payments till the cows come home, but what I really try to get across to a person is the fact that when he or she dies, their loved ones will be devastated. There is no better word to describe it. And because death is one of those taboo subjects that most people don't want to think seriously about, I run across people all the time that are really offhand in their treatment of the whole discussion. Which, from my perspective, pisses me off of course... but I realize, that's why MY job is so important.
We'll see where life finds me three weeks from now...
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