More Sadness, Enter At Your Own Risk

I think I’ve always thought of grief as lots and lots of crying. Probably because I’ve always done lots and lots of crying while going through all the depression, sleep problems, irritability and weight fluctuations.

This time though, not so much with the crying, but much of the other.

I’m sleeping a tremendous amount. The sleep of the dead type sleeping except Miss A says I’m thrashing and shouting a lot. I don’t remember any of the dreams causing it though. Hopefully this will pass soonest. We’re leaving for Chattanooga this evening to go see Head of the Hooch and will be sharing a room with two other ladies from her rowing club. I’ve never met either one of them, but I don’t want them to walk away talking about the weird chic who they were forced to bunk with. Not so good.

Inexplicably, I’ve lost five pounds. I’m not going to complain too hard, but I fail to see how someone who is eating massive quantities of Halloween chocolates actually loses weight. Yesterday I loaded up all the leftover M&M’s and snickers and brought them into work. There was one pack of M&M’s left this morning. Should be gone by now. I’m still not sure why I bought all that chocolate. It was sort of like I lost my mind when I went to the grocery store Monday.

There is the irritability. Let’s just say that baby vest I was knitting for a co-worker got thoroughly cussed out before it got finished. And they’re re-paving Hwy. 36 between downtown Hartselle and I-65. I have to practice my breathing exercises while I sit and wait for the road crew to direct traffic. I find that keeps me from fantasizing about running them over for being too stupid to breathe.

In between moments there are sparks of pure joy. I try not to feel guilty for those moments and enjoy them for what they are. Of course the rebound to the sadness is disorienting and painful. Somewhat like I imagine Weebles used to feel like when they were batted sideways only to be slammed upright again by that weight inside their belly.

I guess I still just don’t get it. The necessity that we age and die and are gone from those we love.

I was reading the other day about death and the human instinct to fear it. The author talked about how the fear was born out of the unknown and how we (the living) would never be able to understand what happened after death because it was impossible to learn, thus dooming most of us to a continuing fear of death. Then he went into a discussion about coping with death and helping others deal with death. It was a good article; I wish I could remember where I saw it.

It’s the dealing and the coping that’s giving me such a hard time right now. I think I should cry, but what good does it do? It’s not going to bring her back. I wouldn’t wish her back if she had to continue to suffer in the shell that her body and mind had become. So I don’t cry, much, I just suffer inside, quietly, mostly.

There's A Krackhouse in Kentucky

Yesterday I decided to start my Christmas shopping. I started out easy with the niece's present. She told me exactly what she wanted, a handspindle and some fiber so she could learn to spin. I let her play with my spindle the last time I was home and she was fascinated. So while I was online picking out her gift, I decided to order another spindle for myself along with some more fiber.

When I got home this afternoon it was waiting for me on the front porch. I was surprised. I opened the box and started unpacking it. I got to the fiber and had to smoosh them a little. The bag I got for myself is heavenly. It's not good to know that I can have this type of instant gratification.

I keep thinking perhaps I should start Christmas planning in earnest and then I think I just don't have the energy to do it right now. Tomorrow, perhaps. Right now I'm going to rest on my laurels and enjoy the fact that it's started.

Apparently I’m Doing It Right

My manager came in this morning and we were chatting about my grandmother and the situation with my family. At one point he looked at me, shook his head and said something to the effect of me being so even keel and calm and he never would have guessed that there was so much craziness going on. Hmm… appearances can be deceiving, I suppose.

I was back to work today. People here are so sweet, but it’s exhausting having to reassure everyone that I’m okay over and over when I’d really just rather be at home hiding under my bed.

Yesterday I was worried about the massage I had scheduled for last night. It went okay, then Miss A came in and needed me to work on her shoulder and hamstrings. She hurt the shoulder cleaning up cat puke under the end table. The hamstrings were a casualty of me falling in the hallway at 2am Sunday morning. Again with the cat puke, dontcha know, one of them yakked in front of the bathroom and I stepped in it and down I went. It’s a good thing I was almost asleep or I would have broken something.

Anyway, it was so late when we left the office I knew there was no way I was going to be cooking the pork chops I’d thawed so we went to the Chinese place. While there we ran into friends and she scheduled a massage for this afternoon. Last night I thought it was neat that word is finally filtering through the community and that I’m in more demand. Today though, I’m just plain tired.

Part of it is the ongoing fight trying to kick the crud. Part of it is the emotional stuff. I’m just going to swing at the end of my rope for a while until things improve. At least this time I have a wooden board to sit on and a real good view too.

Oh, October, You Did Me So Wrong...

I'm hoping for a better turnout in November. It's already presenting its own unique set of challenges. The holidays for instance and what to do. My birthday rushing in much too quickly. And tomorrow the day my dad and aunt head to court.

The new company gave me three days of bereavement and while I'm feeling much, much better I thought it prudent to give myself this one more day. I woke up Thursday morning with a sore throat that bloomed into a full blown allergy / sinus attack. Yesterday I hit the 'my ears are going to explode' phase and some time after lunch they finally started draining. By bedtime I was feeling a lot better and managed to sleep all night long. Sleep is always my best medicine and I've been seriously short on it since Nonnie passed.

I had been waking at 2 or 3 in the morning fighting with the pain and then not able to go back to sleep from the grief and worry. It was good to finally sleep through. The time changed helped some as I was completely exhausted by the time I laid down in the bed.

The grief is still strange to me. I know it's here as I'm having difficulty motivating myself to do the one thing I said I'd take care of today. Groceries. I don't want to get off the couch. I've cried a little. Mostly about the other shit that's happening with my family though. Miss A is asking when my next therapy appointment is. She hasn't gone so far as to tell me to move it up to now so I don't know. I feel disconnected and disoriented one moment and very focused the next. It's bizarre and it's not pattern for my grief and I don't understand it.

I've already had a client call this morning. She has hurt herself and needs help. I agreed to work on her this afternoon after she leaves work. I hope that's not a mistake. Of course, she's a friend and has been with me since I was in school so if I cry the whole time she won't mind, but still, I'd like to at least pretend to be a professional.

So I think I'm going to go eat a generic brand fig newton and visualize running myself through the shower. Maybe with a fresh pair of jeans and my tennis shoes I can take myself to the grocery store and get the chores over with. Maybe if I promise myself a little spinning time after it's all done...

And just as an aside because suddenly I'm feeling a little grouchy, you know what really irritates me? Morning show celebrities who get all dressed up for Halloween on the company dime and then talk about how great their costumes are. Of course they're great. They have professionals designing and executing everything. All they have to do is show up and be dressed. Hmmmph...

Turtling

My Nonnie passed Thursday morning. My head is filled, screaming. I wait for the drowning wall of grief to slam into me, wrap me in its suffocating clutches as it's done so many times before. It doesn't come.

I wonder if these past months of therapy have prepared me too well, if I grieved too much after her stroke, if cold logic has finally surpassed fickle emotion?