As anger subsides, it leaves a void. And voids are made to be filled - but with what? I believe we have choices in life. I can fill my void with sadness, or anger and just repeat a cycle or I can choose to fill it with something else. Me personally, I think I'm juggling between hope and despair. I take one step forward and two steps back. For half the day I take a deep breath and don't even think about what's happened and then, somewhere along the line, sorrow drips slowly back in and suddenly I'm drowning in it.
So how do you cope? I cut my hair ridiculously short and played a lot of video games and watched a lot of movies. I decided I'm going to Scotland in November (I'll find a way to afford it goddamnit!). Basically, I distract myself. And I think distractions are my saving grace. Because without them I'd be a sopping mess.
I think that's why the day is easy - so much to keep me busy - but nighttime is so difficult. You get so used to somebody being next to you at night, you have that sense of safety and love. And suddenly they're gone? What about my safety?
But you realise that's silly, it's selfish, and most importantly it's not true. Number one, they are only gone in a physical sense (yes I believe in spiritual lives). Number two, you can provide yourself safety, whether you need to get a dog or a baseball bat, you CAN find a way to supplement that feeling, though it won't ever be the same. Number three, who is to say that love you felt is gone? If it's love, it'll never be gone. You will always love them at least a little bit and they will always love you. And that's what get's me through.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
One Helluva First Blog Post...
Why am I writing this? And why is it called Glorious Surrender? Well, I have an answer for those questions and it's pretty much the same. My boyfriend died just about three weeks ago. Since then, externally, I've been holding it together fine. Going to work everyday, talking, even laughing with friends. Internally though, I'm fucked up. And why shouldn't I be? Life will NEVER be the same.
My boyfriend was lucky enough to have a large group of family and friends that loved him, which in turn has created a sort of support system. The problem though, I suspect for each of us, is that we each knew him differently and will thus mourn him differently. That's how mourning works. You go through phases. I'm currently in the, "lonely, angry," phase, the, "I don't really give a shit that you're upset too," phase, the, "why the fuck did this happen to me?" phase. See, for me, I'm not only mourning the loss of his life and the love we had, I'm mourning the loss of the life we were supposed to have together.
I was supposed to say yes to that man when he asked me to marry him, walk down an aisle and say I do, have his children. That was the plan. Instead, I watched, helpless, as the best part of me slipped away behind his eyes before finally leaving all together. I sat, terrified in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room, until the surgeon came in and brusquely said, "And unfortunately, he died."
I wanted to punch him in the teeth.
But this is part of life right? This is how we learn? So that's why I'm writing this. Because I know I'm not the only one who's dealing with this or has dealt with this or will. And sharing our stories of loss and pain helps us not to feel so alone. And "Glorious Surrender" refers to what I'm doing with my life now. It has no religious connotation, don't run away with yourself. It just means I'm surrendering to the power of now, of life. And I'm not holding back any more.
My boyfriend was lucky enough to have a large group of family and friends that loved him, which in turn has created a sort of support system. The problem though, I suspect for each of us, is that we each knew him differently and will thus mourn him differently. That's how mourning works. You go through phases. I'm currently in the, "lonely, angry," phase, the, "I don't really give a shit that you're upset too," phase, the, "why the fuck did this happen to me?" phase. See, for me, I'm not only mourning the loss of his life and the love we had, I'm mourning the loss of the life we were supposed to have together.
I was supposed to say yes to that man when he asked me to marry him, walk down an aisle and say I do, have his children. That was the plan. Instead, I watched, helpless, as the best part of me slipped away behind his eyes before finally leaving all together. I sat, terrified in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room, until the surgeon came in and brusquely said, "And unfortunately, he died."
I wanted to punch him in the teeth.
But this is part of life right? This is how we learn? So that's why I'm writing this. Because I know I'm not the only one who's dealing with this or has dealt with this or will. And sharing our stories of loss and pain helps us not to feel so alone. And "Glorious Surrender" refers to what I'm doing with my life now. It has no religious connotation, don't run away with yourself. It just means I'm surrendering to the power of now, of life. And I'm not holding back any more.
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