I worry that I repeat myself in this blog. I know I repeat myself constantly in my journal. Some of the same things come up again and again. Some of them lie quiescent for a time and then resurface. Some I push down, not wanting to feel them, doing my best to avoid them. But the feelings are always present. Yesterday I was very aware that I needed to write. Instead, I spent the whole day avoiding facing them head on. So they wait. And when I try to go to sleep, they pounce, leaving me sobbing and wailing.
Sometimes I have so many opposing feelings happening at once, I feel like I'm in a tornado, spinning wildly. Metaphors race through my brain, trying to make sense of the chaos within.
Part of me, the critical, controlling, judgmental me, thinks that after almost two years I should be farther along. I'm sure many people think so, luckily no one says it to my face. One person did and he was quickly history. Luckily for me, so many of the people I've been fortunate enough to surround myself with tell me "It's a process. It's different for everyone. There's no wrong way to grieve. It never fully goes away." and many other loving things that I can tell critical me. And I remind myself that I had a year and a half of major losses, compounding the grief. Intellectually I realize that I have sustained almost every major loss one can have. So I try to be as gentle and loving with myself as I would be with someone else. I give myself credit for getting out of bed, getting dressed, walking to meetings, putting my hand out. I'm taking care of myself physically - probably better than I ever have in my life. I go to grief support groups, I go to church, I go wherever I can find what I need to keep moving through this.
I think I spent the past six months in numb despair. I was in the same sort of zombie place after Jim and then my Dad died. Both times it took the same thing to jolt me awake. And I feel embarrassed about it. But I now understand the Sleeping Beauty story. Because both times, it was a kiss that woke me up. I don't want to be the kind of woman that needs a kiss to wake up. I "should" be strong and self sufficient and not need a man, blah, blah, blah..... but it is what it is. And then I read my friend Jill Hamilton's blog post "Dopamine, the Cruel Bitch Mistress". I have another friend Ethlie Ann Vare who writes about Love and Sex Addiction and talks about dopamine. But the other day, it hit me when I read this quote (quoted in Jill's blog) by Sheril Kirshenbaum in The Science of Kissing.
Spiking during a passionate kiss, dopamine is responsible for the rush of elation and craving, and can also result in obsessive thoughts that many of us experience in association with a new romance--almost like an addiction.So the kiss woke me up and jump started me. Since I'm totally an addict, I want to dive right in and get more. Added bonus, the grief recedes. I know it's still there, but the pain is gone. I was trying my best to be a little wiser than I've been and take it slow (admittedly something I have little experience with. The only time I took it slow was with Jim and that was because at the time we wouldn't see each other for several weeks in between dates because we were both doing art shows and in different places). And then the man decided after 2 dates that we shouldn't see each other. I'm still confused & unclear about the reasons. But it was good in a masochistic, hurts so good kind of way. Because although my addict self wants the dopamine rush, the escape from the grief; my sober self knows I need time alone and time and space to heal. And I know through experience that once the dopamine rush wears off, the grief comes back, but in an unhealthy way. God did for me what I could not do for myself. So it is best this way. BUT....
It triggered all of my abandonment issues. Followed closely by Anger. And on Anger's tails, Guilt, Regret and Remorse. I'm fucking pissed at Jim for leaving me, for not taking better care of himself. I'm angry that no one, myself included, thought that maybe there was a physical reason for his mood changes. I feel guilty that I didn't know, didn't have more love and patience when he acted like an asshole. He fucking promised me that he would never leave me and he fucking died on me and left me forever. (I really thought that we'd split up, have some time apart and end up back together). I'm angry at my father for falling and discovering he had cancer. It wasn't even a week after Jim died. I didn't even get a chance to absorb Jim's death and I had to deal with my father dying. I'm pissed at God and myself for Athena's death. I feel so horribly guilty that I was distracted and she died a painful death because of my negligence. I feel like I let Jim down, one of the final things he wrote entrusted me with her care and I fucked up. And I feel like I let Jim down because my store failed. He wanted so much for it to be a success for me, he wanted me to be happy. And I couldn't make it work.
AND I KNOW intellectually that I couldn't control, that I did the best I could, they did the best they could, yada, yada. I just can't get what I know and what I feel to be in harmony. But I do know what I need to do, more writing (privately) and share it with someone. I've found someone I think will be able to help me with it. I still have hope that one day I'll heal, I won't be one huge, gaping wound. Right now I feel like a burn victim being debrided. Dead tissue removed, exposed nerve endings, but necessary for healing.
I have so many fears and insecurities. Jim and I had thought we were like two trees. We began as individuals and were so close we entwined around each other, but we were still two individual trees. Now I wonder, because without Jim here to entwine around, I've flopped over onto the ground. I keep wondering if maybe I'm just a vine....not a tree. But first I have to clear out he anger, guilt, the things infecting me and keeping me from healing. Then I can move on from there. At least now, I'm awake and I see the path directly in front of me.
girl, you're totally a tree.
ReplyDeleteThank you Jill. xoxo
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