12.06.2011

Blunt

I'm going to make a blunt statement.  I do not like the person I currently am.  At all.  In fact, I really haven't liked me for the last couple of months.  

I know I promised myself I wasn't going to turn this blog into the "My Mom Died" blog, but so much of my life right now is wrapped up in the aftermath of her passing that I can't not keep bringing it up.  I have so much going on in my life in regards to it and so much to still work out that it's hard to function some days.  I never in a million years thought that losing my Mom would be quite like this.  I knew it would be hard, but absolutely nothing like it's been.  I'm not going to go into the specifics of what all the issues are, but it's all contributing to the kind of person I've been since Mom died.  

I have no patience for anyone.  In fact, I snapped big time at Ken the other night over pudding.  Pudding!  Who does that?  Apparently the current version of me does.  I find little joy in the hobbies I love.  I'm still reading comics, but I find I have no passion for them right now.  I'm still dvr-ing all my tv shows, but I'm watching very few of them.  Video games have been a chore to play lately.  My online socializing habits are nearly non-existent.    I don't really want to leave the house.  Now I know I'm pretty much a homebody to start with, but that version of me is way more likely to go out and have fun than the current version.  My bitterness quotient is through the roof.

I'm guessing not a lot of this shows on the surface, though.  People at work seem to think I'm a little off, but mostly the same old me.  And that's one thing I've always been good at, I guess.  Putting up a shield.  I try putting it up with Ken, too, but he knows me too well and sees right through it.  And he worries, which in turn adds to my stress.  He doesn't know how not to worry, so I can't fault him for that.  But sometimes I just wish he'd take me at my word that I'm okay and I'm working though my issues.  I know it's killing him giving me my space.  We're so opposite when it comes to things like this.  I need my space.  Lots and lots of it.  It's the only way I can process.  He is my polar opposite at times like this.  He wants to smother.  How we've made it nearly 18 years is anyone's guess.

I just wish I could take a vacation from myself.  I think it would do me a world of good.  But in the meantime, I'll just have to settle for a vacation with myself.  We've got a little getaway planned for the near future and it's something I desperately need.  I plan on cutting myself off from the entire world to give myself a chance to breathe.  I really hope I remember how to.


3 comments:

Gregg P. said...

I feel so very much the same way, Walt. It's not quite the same as losing a mom, but losing Gregory after being friends for 38 years hit me incredibly hard. I feel like I've lost a brother and a best friend and a confidant and so many things all at once. And after he was such a constant part of our family life in the last year of his life, it's has left an enormous hole in my life and I just can't seem to get around it yet.

6 months after his death, losing our dog Scarlett did a remarkably efficient job of ripping the scabs off those wounds. Now I feel raw and numb at the same time, pretty much all the time.

A couple of weeks ago I went out for my weekly Thursday evening at The Dig Pub (the place I brought you when you were here), and I had a nice time, chatting and joking and so forth. But when I left, I realized that the second I knew I was out of view from my friends my face dropped, my shoulders drooped, and I felt exhausted. I was so tired from putting on the happy face. That's when I realized just how depressed I am, and just how much I'm forcing myself to go through the motions most days.

I went home, talked with Christine about it, we both cried some more (like we've done most days for the past 7 fucking months, whether together or, in my case, when I'm alone in my car) and I went to bed.

I don't know if any of this helps. But for me, I think the only thing I can do is just keep going. One foot in front of the other. The holidays are going to suck, period, but I'm going to get through them and I'm going to do my best not to ruin them for anyone else, even if it mean plastering on a fake fucking smile the whole time.

Like Winston Churchill said, "If you're going through hell, keep going." Well, this is hell. There's a way out. Just keep going and one day you'll get there.

Hello Nessa said...

I get it. I may have had different circumstances, but I get it. I have a lot of anger, mood swings, sadness. Everyone experiences their losses differently. What ever you experience is okay and whatever you need to do to clear out your brain is okay too!

She will always be your mom and that's a love and bond that won't change in your heart.

I love you Walt, take care of you.

Mike said...

Hang in there, my friend. Be what you need to be, feel how you need to feel, cry or shout when you need to.