Things I have learned the second half of 2011:

I have learned a lot about grief.  There is so much involved with grief that I have only learned part of it, and unfortunately it’s the part about how it affects me.  I haven’t gotten close to learning about the recovering from grief part, or how to grieve properly if there is even a part on that.  I have learned that I can hide it pretty well.  I cannot control it very well.  It can come at any time of day or night and fogs my future.   It looks like something you see out of a movie, head in your hands sobbing, or staring out of a window with tears rolling down your face.  Hollywood got that one right. I can sometimes distract myself and turn it off.  Mostly though, I have learned that it hurts.  There’s no better description than that it hurts really bad. I feel horrible that there are others out there, some I am close to, who have experienced this and yet I didn’t understand the pain they were going through.  I would never say that at least I’m thankful for this experience because it has taught me empathy.  I most certainly am not.  I was very content and at peace without such empathy.   That those closest to me who have no idea that I am shredded on the inside will probably not have to endure this, however, does bring a small sense of relief.   I would not wish such gross kinship on anyone.   Wow.  Drama much.

I have learned a lot of physical reactions to pain.  I know now that my right eye will leak tears first.  I am all too familiar with the taste of them now. I have learned that if I cry too hard, my eyes actually feel like they are going to turn inside out or pop out and that I may actually hurt myself from crying.  I have had the unique chance to experience hyperventilating (never got to do that before).   I once cried so hard and for so long that it made my head felt like it was going to explode.  I remember panicking that I wouldn’t stop the pain in time.  Yikes.  I have learned to take cold medicine to help speed up recovery from a particularly bad crying jag.  My head has had a slow dull ache for the past six months, but I have learned to  listen to upbeat music or watch stupid cooking shows or distract myself with anything to keep it at bay.  It is only a temporary fix though because like any dam made from Kleenex, it inevitably overflows, floods, and needs to be rebuilt.  It is a cycle that is not predictable, lending to the lack of control I have over most aspects of my life nowadays.   They say time heals all wounds, but I think they are talking about more time than this.  If I feel this way after almost six months, I’m thinking this could take several hundred years before I start to feel any better.  Physically, I don’t feel like I even look the same as I did six months ago.  There is definitely brightness missing, but I’m not sure where to find it.  I think I have become adept to hiding the puffy eyes with makeup (and cucumbers ARE good and reducing swelling), but there are some mornings I am just too tired and I know people won’t ask questions, no one ever does, although I’m sure the frequency makes them want to. 

I have learned to hide some of this from my husband and almost all of it from my family, although my patience with my children, or lack thereof, is highly recognizable and questioned by them, making things that much worse.  I have learned that someone can feel very alone for quite some time and still survive.  Living is different than surviving.  Speaking of which, I have learned that sometimes our children can save us.  I’m going to leave it at that without anyone questioning my sanity which is really not that close to the edge, but closer than I am comfortable with.

So, to sum it all up, life has continued on and I feel as if I have stood behind a thick wall of glass while watching someone who vaguely resembles myself go through the motions halfheartedly and there is nothing I can do to break through and fix things.  I am broken and am so very tired of feeling this way. 

Okay, I’ve turned down the music and maybe I’m being a little dramatic, I’m not exactly broken, but severely fractured.  I feel horrible when my husband knows I’m feeling so low.  It’s not his fault and I don’t blame him for feeling this way.  That’s another big thing.  I have nowhere to lay the blame so I’m piling all on God.  Jesus take the wheel, as they say, but I think all Jesus wants to do right now is go through the drive thru for a coke because I’m getting nowhere.  (Also, blasphemy is way easier nowadays when I’m mad at God, kind of refreshing actually, don’t stand too close to me though when it rains.) I know I could say I’m mad that he told me, but in reality, I know he was doing what he thought was right so how am I supposed to be mad about that?  I’m just mad for what it is.  He’s going through his own right now and just piling this on him makes me feel even worse.  I haven’t talked to my therapist for over a month now.  Maybe this is where this is all coming from, that and the holidays coming up.  And the economy.  Right?