Muted
For days now, I've had problems with my DSL service. Coincidentally, this has coincided with an upsurge in the road work occurring on my street. It felt strange when I looked at my blog today and realized that I hadn't posted anything in over a week. I also haven't written anything in my private, handwritten journal. Eight days without writing isn't good for me, yet I just haven't had a damn thing to say. That, more than the technical difficulties, is the biggest reason I haven't written.
It's not entirely accurate though. I do have things I'd like to say, but they're inappropriate, so inappropriate that I can't even express them privately. I just can't handle everything I'm feeling, and I'm too scattered to do any serious thinking.
Just writing that makes me feel pathetic, like I'm writing yet another entry that screams, "Feel sorry for me!" Yet that's the last thing I want.
So many things are better now. I have transportation. I have an income. I am around people, and I make them smile, laugh and sometimes even feel better in a stressful situation. I'm really good at dealing with bride's mothers who are stressed by definition. I enjoy feeling that little bit competency. I am aware and at least intellectually grateful for the positive things that have been happening, but there's still this big disconnect between my mind and my feelings.
There are times I just wonder if I'll ever get my shit together, and if it's really worth the effort.
posted by Cynthia at
8:31 PM
10 Comments:
Now that I am back in school, I asked my daughter how it is for her to be back.
"You mean aside from the fact that nothing matters?" she said.
"Yeah, aside from that," I said.
So yes, I get it, and no, you aren't whining.
I remember that feeling that Robin describes, that feeling that nothing matters. I felt precisely that way when I was grieving...like there was nothing in the world, and would never be again, more important than the person I had lost, more engaging than the process of the loss. All the little upsets of every day just felt like nothing, compared to the one huge thing that had been upset.
And I don't think anyone ever "gets (their) shit together. At least in my life, my shit seems to have a will of its own. It's either together or it's all over the place, with little or no help from me.
Glad you're back. I miss you when you're "muted."
(o) not feeling sorry for you, but wanting to send love.
I have missed you, wondered if you were okay. Anyone who has ever grieved can understand how hard this time is for you. Your first holiday season without R. Just praying for you my friend and holding you close in thoughts,
Hugs sent.
Me, too.
Big shifts in our lives take time to metabolize, if they ever do, if we even want them to; thinking of you.
I think we never get our shit together....because when it is together, what is there to learn?
You know, it may just be that you don't have anything to say. And this is not necessarily a bad thing! I think those of us who keep journals, both public and private, have a tendency to forget that not every thought need be expressed, nor every emotion interpreted into written language to have meaning. The disconnect you speak of between mind and heart may be one of interpretation. This does not invalidate either; it merely acknowledges the individual existence of both. Allow yourself to feel what you feel without interference. Sometimes its better to just be... ;)
I have never suffered a loss like you have. I cannot imagine how that must feel, so I have no idea what words would be appropriate or comforting to you. My guess is that such words don't even exist. But I want you to know that you are in my thoughts and prayers. And I agree with Gigi...maybe just let yourself feel what you're feeling without feeling the need to put words to them. But if you do want to put words to them, that's alright too. No judgements. You're allowed whatever it is you feel. There is nothing that you could write that I would judge as inappropriate. Sending you love.
You have just described what I felt after Meg was killed. I went through the same type of thing when we moved. I didn't write, because I didn't like what I had to say. The things that I needed to say crowded everything else out.
Grief really screws with your head. Your mind recognizes you're moving forward but your emotions won't let you accept it. In my case, that's when my mind started telling itself that I was just pathetic. Don't buy into that. You're not pathetic, you're stricken with grief. Nothing you feel, and nothing you say about those feelings is wrong.
Hugs and love to you Cynthia....
I hear you! A lot of my thoughts don't feel fit to think let alone read.
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