Right around this time Jean asked me a question that has remained with me to this day. I don't know what she was getting at exactly, but I know that I have thought about this question and my answer nearly every day since it's been asked. The question was something along the lines of what would you wish for right now if you could have anything?
The answer was: for time to stand still.
I wished that I could just put everything on hold, the entire world around me, the pressure to make decisions, the stress of trying to figure out what were the right steps to take. I used to walk around outside at night, very late, when nothing else was going on, just to feel the way the world felt when the tasks of the day had gone to bed. The world I walked through was a surreal one, with my husband no longer a part of my realm. How a life that animated could have snuffed itself out at such an odd place and time; it boggled my mind.
I find that the only way for me to really get through it is to view it and feel it in a very objective manner. No guarantees come with anything, especially things that make you happy. The startling reality of how everything physical and tangible was of a transient nature wore me down and broke me for a while. Because, saddest of all, this includes people.
I worry that this startles people or makes them think about me in a weird way. I've already got enough to worry about over my entry on washing dead men's penises, posted a tad over a year ago. If it makes anyone feel any less weird about my new-found peace with life, please note that I spent the better part of this year in the throes of severe anxiety and moderate-to-severe depression that required medical intervention. I lost at least 65lbs. this past year alone due to NOT EATING ANY FOOD.
I just want to note here that I gained 10 back and feel pretty good physically. If I can maintain, thing will be good. However, I have lost a bit of hair and really hope it decides to come back.
(I ate some Chef Boyardee today. And Italian wedding soup. Think that's good for hair growth?)
(I also got a haircut. I am satisfied with it but could get no good pictures of it today. I think it was the shirt I was wearing. Plus, I get such a skanky feeling every time I leave the beauty parlor, even if it is a high-end place. I feel like I am coated in hairspray, thus I feel gross. It's probably my imagination. Does anyone else ever experience this? Please don't let me be the only freak with this issue!)
I read a book that Laura recommended, called The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. He's a Facebook friend, by the way. It's a self-help book, but beyond that it's kind of hard to explain what it is. All I know is, it helped me chill.
One of the main themes throughout the book the human perception of time, and living in either the future or the past, and few people living in the present in a way that helps them feel content. I guess that's what the title is all about, the fact that the moment that matters the most is right now.
Reflection on the past is necessary, as is planning for the future, but when I was living solely in both the past and future, the present was taking a beating. I feel like I have put the past in it's place with many issues and trying like hell to take the future step-by-step. The only other choice is to be insane and my daughters deserve much better than that.
Ah, Rutherford, here we come. Please be good to us, for we will be good to you.
1 comment:
I think I asked you that question (I'm guessing because I can't really remember) to see if you it would help you envision a future life for yourself, outside of your pain.
When my dad died, that desire for time to stand still welled up in me, too. And in my mom, of course. All those decisions, all that activity, was too much. It's too much to do in a few days time. It's actually quite shocking, the work that is thrown on you when a loved one dies. And you are in the worst mental state of your life in most cases.
As for your technique of looking at it objectively, I do the same thing, and I cannot help it. When things turn tragic in my life, my mind becomes super organized, focused, and objective. I plan perfectly and forget nothing. I take care of things methodically. Then I break down periodically, but feel myself rising outside of my grief and watching my own process. I don't feel guilty about it. I feel incredibly lucky that I am able to do this, and so should you.
You don't have to earn your happiness back. It's yours for the taking. Anyone that would expect you to cling to your loss does not understand your resilient nature, or the fact that Rob wants you to have a full life despite his absence. You are still alive and you are here to make this world a beautiful place.
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