Lately I have been feeling like I'm going through a lull in my grieving. I haven't written in my journal to JP since our wedding anniversary. I cry, but not as often as I did up until a couple weeks ago (the trip to Albuquerque). The times I notice the gaping void are the times when I'm annoyed about something - dealing with the logistics of my guardianship of Max's half of the estate, making decisions that we should be making together, being told by my mom how hard it is for her to take care of Max...And a lot of the time, in those instances, I'm more angry than sad. I definitely get snappy with my mom - widow mouth, can't help it. But does she seriously think that I would rather be doing homework and taking my crippled dog to therapy than taking care of Max all day?
Anyway, I am feeling very distant from JP. And I don't know what it means. Is it a phase? I mean, I know there are always going to be ups and downs - times when I am able to enjoy life without feeling guilty, and also times when I feel like I've just run into a brick wall of pain.
I guess the other part of it is that I'm finding that I am more energized by things. A new friendship. An upcoming weekend in Miami (because my awesome friend bought me a ticket - for HER 30th birthday - can you believe that?). Crossfit. School (though not stats!). I've definitely started being more social. And it feels nice to get out for something that isn't gym/class/dog therapy. And I'm starting to at least think about getting back on the proverbial market. Which is hard to reconcile with intense grieving. But that's a thread for another time...
I wonder if others experience this type of lull in the grief process. Or is it really a corner that I'm turning? I suppose only time will tell.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Monday, October 15, 2012
Courage
Today is the 15th, and it has been 8 months. The past week has been tough. In one of my classes, this week we're talking about systems models. A system is defined as a whole which cannot be divided into separate parts. Each part can (and does) affect others, and the way in which it affects the whole depends on the other parts. The properties of a system are a product of the interaction of its parts and subsystems.
Alright, I know this isn't the most concise or eloquent paraphrase of the concept, but it's late and I've had a crappy week.
Lately I have just been feeling overwhelmed and down. There wasn't one thing I could point to and say, "that is the thing that is making me feel horrible." Any one of the things wasn't so awful in and of itself. But when they were added up, and the suckiness of one interacted with the suckiness of another, I was left with just a black hole sucking away my ability to stay positive and focused.
I'm trying to claw my way out of the hole. It's not easy! Every time I think I've made some progress, something happens that pushes me back. I'm so tempted to write a big long woe-is-me list of all the things that have made me sad and frustrated this week. But instead, I'm going to try and be positive.
I watched a video of a TED talk by Dr. Brene Brown that was posted by one of my Crossfit coaches (here is the link if you want to watch the whole thing):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4Qm9cGRub0
There were a couple things that hit home when I watched it.
One was her finding that people who have a strong sense of love and belonging believe they're worthy of love and belonging. I mean, it makes perfect sense, right? Someone who doesn't feel worthy of that type of esteem probably won't have a strong sense of being loved and of belonging to/with another person (or people). Despite what I have been through, I maintain the belief that I am worthy of love. I feel very loved by my friends and family. Losing JP, and the love that defined us in relation to one another and to the world, was devastating. My sense of love and being loved - in a romantic sense, at least - was possible only because of him. And to top it all off, he gave me the one being whom I love even more than I loved him. I miss our love terribly. I miss that feeling of belonging, not from a fitting in and being connected perspective, but the sensation of having my heart and soul being in the possession of my best friend. That connection had become such an integral part of how I defined myself and interpreted myself in relation to my environment. And honestly, I don't know that I will ever find that again. I don't know that I want to. Do I expect to fall in love again? Yes. Do I hope to build a life with someone as a partner? I think so. Do I expect to feel the same as I did about JP? Absolutely not. With JP, love and belonging were simple. Our love was pure joy. Love for me, from now on, is always going to be tinged with sorrow and loss. Even if it's just a whisper, the slightest hint.
Didn't I say I was going to be positive? Hmm.
So the second thing I really liked was Dr. Brown's description of courage. The word courage derives from the Latin word "cor" which means "heart." The original English definition of "courage" was: to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart. And that, my friends, is exactly what I am aiming to do here.
Alright, I know this isn't the most concise or eloquent paraphrase of the concept, but it's late and I've had a crappy week.
Lately I have just been feeling overwhelmed and down. There wasn't one thing I could point to and say, "that is the thing that is making me feel horrible." Any one of the things wasn't so awful in and of itself. But when they were added up, and the suckiness of one interacted with the suckiness of another, I was left with just a black hole sucking away my ability to stay positive and focused.
I'm trying to claw my way out of the hole. It's not easy! Every time I think I've made some progress, something happens that pushes me back. I'm so tempted to write a big long woe-is-me list of all the things that have made me sad and frustrated this week. But instead, I'm going to try and be positive.
I watched a video of a TED talk by Dr. Brene Brown that was posted by one of my Crossfit coaches (here is the link if you want to watch the whole thing):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4Qm9cGRub0
There were a couple things that hit home when I watched it.
One was her finding that people who have a strong sense of love and belonging believe they're worthy of love and belonging. I mean, it makes perfect sense, right? Someone who doesn't feel worthy of that type of esteem probably won't have a strong sense of being loved and of belonging to/with another person (or people). Despite what I have been through, I maintain the belief that I am worthy of love. I feel very loved by my friends and family. Losing JP, and the love that defined us in relation to one another and to the world, was devastating. My sense of love and being loved - in a romantic sense, at least - was possible only because of him. And to top it all off, he gave me the one being whom I love even more than I loved him. I miss our love terribly. I miss that feeling of belonging, not from a fitting in and being connected perspective, but the sensation of having my heart and soul being in the possession of my best friend. That connection had become such an integral part of how I defined myself and interpreted myself in relation to my environment. And honestly, I don't know that I will ever find that again. I don't know that I want to. Do I expect to fall in love again? Yes. Do I hope to build a life with someone as a partner? I think so. Do I expect to feel the same as I did about JP? Absolutely not. With JP, love and belonging were simple. Our love was pure joy. Love for me, from now on, is always going to be tinged with sorrow and loss. Even if it's just a whisper, the slightest hint.
Didn't I say I was going to be positive? Hmm.
So the second thing I really liked was Dr. Brown's description of courage. The word courage derives from the Latin word "cor" which means "heart." The original English definition of "courage" was: to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart. And that, my friends, is exactly what I am aiming to do here.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Fall Fail
Being from New England, where the crisp autumn air smells like magic and holds the promise of apple cider donuts and fresh-picked bushels of apples, and you can count on the scenic winding roads being clogged with slow-moving leaf-peepers all weekend long, fall is my favorite season. If you've never seen fall in New England, you're missing out. The mountains look like something out of a dream world - with shades of gold, orange and red that don't seem like they could possibly occur naturally. Driving up into Vermont when the leaves are in all their technicolor splendor should be on everyone's bucket list. You wouldn't need Instagram to take a breathtaking photo. To me, fall means fleece vests and apple cider and jumping in piles of leaves. It's football and sweaters and post-season baseball (sometimes...).
Of course, I live in Chicago now, and it would be really stupid for me to jump in a leaf pile since my dog probably just peed in those leaves. And the leaves pretty much just turn yellow and brown. And the only time we get fleece vest temperature is close to summer. Or inside.
But even though this pseudo/shoulder season that lasts about 4 days (most of which are overcast and rainy) doesn't have the feel of fall in Western Mass, fall still means Halloween. Candy and costumes? What could be better?
I was totally the kid who trick-or-treated until sophomore year in high school. Anyone who knows me knows that I am All About Costumes. I even tried to convince JP to have a costume wedding (only half-seriously because of course I knew he would never go for it and also one of my cousins had done a costume wedding...)
A friend noted recently that she knew this month would be hard for me because JP and I loved Halloween so much. And she's right: we did. JP may have pretended not to be into Halloween, and that he was just doing it for my sake, but I know better. Not that I don't think he did it partly for me - he did. But someone who doesn't enjoy it doesn't spend hours every year working on a costume, mmmkay? I'll save the photo montage for the actual day, but I am certainly reliving memories of wonderful Halloweens spent together all month long.
The weather hasn't been terrible yet, and I'm trying to enjoy the fall. But it's hard. I'm so wrapped up in school, and in worrying about Maddy, that I haven't started to plan Max's costume. I'm just starting to look for a pumpkin patch to take him to, and wishing we had done that last year. It's something we were looking forward to, and then the time just got away from us. And now Max will never have gone to a pumpkin patch with his daddy. Which, of course, in the grand scheme of things - things that Max will never do with his father - is a tiny, insignificant nothing. But it still makes me sad.
Autumn used to make me feel inspired and alive. This year it's just one step closer to the long, dark, freezing, bleak winter. And winter will bring with it the first anniversary of my loss. And now fall just feels like the harbinger of bad times to come.
Of course, I live in Chicago now, and it would be really stupid for me to jump in a leaf pile since my dog probably just peed in those leaves. And the leaves pretty much just turn yellow and brown. And the only time we get fleece vest temperature is close to summer. Or inside.
But even though this pseudo/shoulder season that lasts about 4 days (most of which are overcast and rainy) doesn't have the feel of fall in Western Mass, fall still means Halloween. Candy and costumes? What could be better?
I was totally the kid who trick-or-treated until sophomore year in high school. Anyone who knows me knows that I am All About Costumes. I even tried to convince JP to have a costume wedding (only half-seriously because of course I knew he would never go for it and also one of my cousins had done a costume wedding...)
A friend noted recently that she knew this month would be hard for me because JP and I loved Halloween so much. And she's right: we did. JP may have pretended not to be into Halloween, and that he was just doing it for my sake, but I know better. Not that I don't think he did it partly for me - he did. But someone who doesn't enjoy it doesn't spend hours every year working on a costume, mmmkay? I'll save the photo montage for the actual day, but I am certainly reliving memories of wonderful Halloweens spent together all month long.
The weather hasn't been terrible yet, and I'm trying to enjoy the fall. But it's hard. I'm so wrapped up in school, and in worrying about Maddy, that I haven't started to plan Max's costume. I'm just starting to look for a pumpkin patch to take him to, and wishing we had done that last year. It's something we were looking forward to, and then the time just got away from us. And now Max will never have gone to a pumpkin patch with his daddy. Which, of course, in the grand scheme of things - things that Max will never do with his father - is a tiny, insignificant nothing. But it still makes me sad.
Autumn used to make me feel inspired and alive. This year it's just one step closer to the long, dark, freezing, bleak winter. And winter will bring with it the first anniversary of my loss. And now fall just feels like the harbinger of bad times to come.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Turning a Corner?
Things have been crazy for the past week. Now I find myself scrambling to play catch-up on life in general. From Max's Halloween costume and trying to squeeze in some fun fall activities to getting the condo organized to some big school projects, I am once again wishing for a clone, or more hours in the day.
I spent a long weekend in Albuquerque visiting my brother and his girlfriend, along with Max and my parents. It was a wonderful, but exhausting, trip. Despite spending a lot of time waiting in lines (it was the first weekend of the Hot Air Balloon Festival, so lots of tourists!), and despite having a toddler, we did a ton of stuff. And I fell in love with the city and with the Southwest in general.
Flying with a toddler is exhausting! Even with 3 sets of arms and a while aisle to ourselves. I'm kind of dreading flying with him and no parents to help out. Max is a great traveler, despite being a bit of a wiggle worm, and the only real trouble was due to ear pain (poor guy!)
On Friday we went to a really nice neighborhood playground, visited my brother at the school where he teaches, and just hung around in their cool yard before an aborted dinner mission (at a hot spot that was just jam-packed due to the big weekend festivities) and a great take-out meal from Los Cuates (delicious red chili salsa - I brought a jar back from the grocery store!).
Saturday was supposed to be the Grand Ascension for the balloons. We got up at 5am, headed out to a park-n-ride location, and waited in line to get on a bus...drove up and found out that it had been cancelled due to winds. Waited on the bus for about an hour in a line of buses that weren't moving and weren't being told anything about what to do. Finally got off and decided to check out the scene...which was much akin to a crowded fair. At this point we ended up just getting back in line for the bus back. Which took forever due to an accident. But Max was thrilled to see helicopters and lots of buses, so he had a great time!
Next up was the Farmer's Market, while Max napped. OMG. What a treat that was! Gorgeous vegetables, and lots of fun New Mexican foods to sample. If only I'd had a larger suitcase! For my wonderful dog-sitters I got jars of bison meat sauce (sounds gross, looks awful, tastes like meat sauce heaven) and raspberry-red chili-ginger jam. Yum! Here are a couple pics of the signature red and green chilies, as well as ristras, the bunches of dried chilies that New Mexicans use as decor as well as flavoring (at least I think they do!)
Next was a field trip to a cool metal sculpture/vintage furniture store that my brother had discovered through their stall at a fair recently. The proprietor was this cool older gentleman who offered my dad a lower price on the piece he was purchasing without even being asked. He told some great stories and jokes, too.
I even fell in love with the grocery store, which is sort of a hybrid between Trader Joe's and Whole Foods, and features a lot of local offerings (like the chili salsa from Los Cuates and other local eateries).
After lunch, we headed over to the mountains to take a tram ride up Sandia Peak. Again, we found ourselves waiting in line with the other tourists whose balloon plans had been foiled by the wind. But the weather was gorgeous and even the views while waiting for our tram were worth the wait. The tram ride featured breathtaking views, as did the view from up top. Of course, waiting in line at the bottom meant...waiting in line at top! We basically waited for a couple hours to go get in line for another couple hours. But totally worth it. And with so many of us, we could have one person hold the spot in line while others checked out the vistas (and the view from line was spectacular itself!) Here are some pics from the trip:
I spent a long weekend in Albuquerque visiting my brother and his girlfriend, along with Max and my parents. It was a wonderful, but exhausting, trip. Despite spending a lot of time waiting in lines (it was the first weekend of the Hot Air Balloon Festival, so lots of tourists!), and despite having a toddler, we did a ton of stuff. And I fell in love with the city and with the Southwest in general.
Flying with a toddler is exhausting! Even with 3 sets of arms and a while aisle to ourselves. I'm kind of dreading flying with him and no parents to help out. Max is a great traveler, despite being a bit of a wiggle worm, and the only real trouble was due to ear pain (poor guy!)
On Friday we went to a really nice neighborhood playground, visited my brother at the school where he teaches, and just hung around in their cool yard before an aborted dinner mission (at a hot spot that was just jam-packed due to the big weekend festivities) and a great take-out meal from Los Cuates (delicious red chili salsa - I brought a jar back from the grocery store!).
Saturday was supposed to be the Grand Ascension for the balloons. We got up at 5am, headed out to a park-n-ride location, and waited in line to get on a bus...drove up and found out that it had been cancelled due to winds. Waited on the bus for about an hour in a line of buses that weren't moving and weren't being told anything about what to do. Finally got off and decided to check out the scene...which was much akin to a crowded fair. At this point we ended up just getting back in line for the bus back. Which took forever due to an accident. But Max was thrilled to see helicopters and lots of buses, so he had a great time!
Next up was the Farmer's Market, while Max napped. OMG. What a treat that was! Gorgeous vegetables, and lots of fun New Mexican foods to sample. If only I'd had a larger suitcase! For my wonderful dog-sitters I got jars of bison meat sauce (sounds gross, looks awful, tastes like meat sauce heaven) and raspberry-red chili-ginger jam. Yum! Here are a couple pics of the signature red and green chilies, as well as ristras, the bunches of dried chilies that New Mexicans use as decor as well as flavoring (at least I think they do!)
Next was a field trip to a cool metal sculpture/vintage furniture store that my brother had discovered through their stall at a fair recently. The proprietor was this cool older gentleman who offered my dad a lower price on the piece he was purchasing without even being asked. He told some great stories and jokes, too.
I even fell in love with the grocery store, which is sort of a hybrid between Trader Joe's and Whole Foods, and features a lot of local offerings (like the chili salsa from Los Cuates and other local eateries).
After lunch, we headed over to the mountains to take a tram ride up Sandia Peak. Again, we found ourselves waiting in line with the other tourists whose balloon plans had been foiled by the wind. But the weather was gorgeous and even the views while waiting for our tram were worth the wait. The tram ride featured breathtaking views, as did the view from up top. Of course, waiting in line at the bottom meant...waiting in line at top! We basically waited for a couple hours to go get in line for another couple hours. But totally worth it. And with so many of us, we could have one person hold the spot in line while others checked out the vistas (and the view from line was spectacular itself!) Here are some pics from the trip:
And as if all of that weren't enough, we ended the day with a delicious dinner at a Latin Fusion restaurant. What a day!
Sunday, and the return trip, came all too soon. Before we left, we had one last amazing meal - breakfast of sourdough toast, green chili grits, and cheesy fried eggs. Yum!
It was great seeing my brother and Max together. They got along famously. Of course, seeing Max interact with any guy makes me just a bit sad - he and JP would have been such a pair by now. I am so sad and angry that we were all robbed of that special relationship.
And speaking of JP, I think that this trip came to be a bit of a turning point for me, or milestone anyway, in my journey through grief. I did dream about him once, but it was another disappointing dream - we were fighting about something and now I can't even remember the part of the dream that featured him, only the feeling of disappointment and missed opportunity when I awoke. We talked about him, of course. He would have loved Albuquerque. He might not have been so taken by the cute downtown and sort of Old(ish) West grittiness of the main strips (and the amazing display of neon lights at night!) But he would have loved the mountains for the hiking and skiing they would offer. Not to mention the food.
When we talked about him, I felt wistful, and sorry that he couldn't be there with us. But I didn't cry. For 4 straight days I didn't cry. This is the first time I have gone more than one day without crying since February 15. Or maybe I did cry, but it wasn't the kind of crying that I typically do at least once a day. It was just because that's what I do when I think of him oftentimes. It was tears of regret, not the heartbreak and desolation that I usually feel.
And it felt good to not be caught up in sorrow. I didn't feel like I was neglecting my grief, it was just nice to be doing something different. There is no JP-ness in Albuquerque for me other than what I carry in my heart and soul, and in the JP-ness that comes with my family, especially Max. And I started thinking that might be a good thing later on.
I fell in love with the city and the Southwest style. I could see us living there someday. The part of me that is afraid to leave Chicago - my support network, the life I shared with JP, etc. - is still strong, but there is another part of me waking up that recognizes that while he will always be a part of me, it could be a good thing to get a fresh start elsewhere. Who knows what the future will hold, and how I will feel about this in 2 years when the time comes to make a decision. I guess what I'm learning is that there might be more options to consider than I had previously assumed...
Monday, October 1, 2012
Weekend Update
The past few days have been full of ups and downs.
Maddy took a turn for the worse on Thursday and started losing control of her bowels. So yeah, she pooped in the house. Like 4 times. And while I had previously stated that incontinence would be a big piece of the indication that it might be time to make the Big Decision...I didn't expect it to happen while she's still getting around ok. So I bought doggie diapers. Which I now realize would not help thanks to the tail-hole. And we made it through today with no accidents. I was really upset when my mom suggested that maybe this might be too much to ask of my friend who is dog-sitting while we're away this coming weekend. Yes, we're getting closer to having to say goodbye, but it's not happening this week. It's hard with a slow decline. It's hard to know when to make that call. She doesn't appear to be suffering. She's still her happy, silly self. She still comes bounding (and falling and flailing) over when she hears anyone getting ice cubes.
Heard David Guetta's "Titanium" song in my Feevha class, and this song kind of sums up how I feel some days.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRfuAukYTKg
My Crossfit gym had a "mixer" on Saturday. The weather was absolutely perfect for an end-of-summer blast. People got drunk and silly. I include myself in that statement. But it was fun. Showing up to social events alone is not my favorite thing. JP always thought I was so silly when I would choose accompanying him to park a car - in the cold/rain, while wearing heels - rather than go into a place by myself. I didn't even like it when I was meeting him somewhere - that moment of scanning the room, looking for one person, or anyone that you recognize...it's not my favorite. But I'm finding it to be less difficult now. Maybe because I have to. Maybe because that's another little piece of him that's now in me. He never had a problem walking into a room and working it.
The night got interesting and weird but also kind of good in a strange way when I met someone who is going through something Very Very Different from what I'm going through, but still really just plain awful and heartbreaking. It's not my story to share, but suffice to say it was nice to be able to open up to someone about what I'm dealing with and not feel like I'm bringing them down, and also to hear what they're going through. That came out wrong - it wasn't "nice" but it was eye-opening. Actually, this is the first time that I have heard someone else's tale of woe that was something other than losing a spouse (or child), and have felt any sympathy at all for them. That's kind of crazy, right? You'd think that I would be more compassionate in light of my loss. Or would you? I've definitely been stuck in the phase of thinking (and yes, sometimes saying with my widow mouth), "yeah, that must really suck for you. Know what sucks more? MY HUSBAND IS DEAD." Not always. There has been at least one time when I have thought (or said) "just because something unimaginably tragic has happened to me, it doesn't invalidate the hard time you're going through, and I don't want you to not talk to me about your life because you think it will seem petty in comparison." See - I'm a hypocrite and I have different rules for different situations. And different moods. And people. Anyway, I really did feel quite sorry for this person. And that felt good.
Maddy took a turn for the worse on Thursday and started losing control of her bowels. So yeah, she pooped in the house. Like 4 times. And while I had previously stated that incontinence would be a big piece of the indication that it might be time to make the Big Decision...I didn't expect it to happen while she's still getting around ok. So I bought doggie diapers. Which I now realize would not help thanks to the tail-hole. And we made it through today with no accidents. I was really upset when my mom suggested that maybe this might be too much to ask of my friend who is dog-sitting while we're away this coming weekend. Yes, we're getting closer to having to say goodbye, but it's not happening this week. It's hard with a slow decline. It's hard to know when to make that call. She doesn't appear to be suffering. She's still her happy, silly self. She still comes bounding (and falling and flailing) over when she hears anyone getting ice cubes.
Heard David Guetta's "Titanium" song in my Feevha class, and this song kind of sums up how I feel some days.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRfuAukYTKg
My Crossfit gym had a "mixer" on Saturday. The weather was absolutely perfect for an end-of-summer blast. People got drunk and silly. I include myself in that statement. But it was fun. Showing up to social events alone is not my favorite thing. JP always thought I was so silly when I would choose accompanying him to park a car - in the cold/rain, while wearing heels - rather than go into a place by myself. I didn't even like it when I was meeting him somewhere - that moment of scanning the room, looking for one person, or anyone that you recognize...it's not my favorite. But I'm finding it to be less difficult now. Maybe because I have to. Maybe because that's another little piece of him that's now in me. He never had a problem walking into a room and working it.
The night got interesting and weird but also kind of good in a strange way when I met someone who is going through something Very Very Different from what I'm going through, but still really just plain awful and heartbreaking. It's not my story to share, but suffice to say it was nice to be able to open up to someone about what I'm dealing with and not feel like I'm bringing them down, and also to hear what they're going through. That came out wrong - it wasn't "nice" but it was eye-opening. Actually, this is the first time that I have heard someone else's tale of woe that was something other than losing a spouse (or child), and have felt any sympathy at all for them. That's kind of crazy, right? You'd think that I would be more compassionate in light of my loss. Or would you? I've definitely been stuck in the phase of thinking (and yes, sometimes saying with my widow mouth), "yeah, that must really suck for you. Know what sucks more? MY HUSBAND IS DEAD." Not always. There has been at least one time when I have thought (or said) "just because something unimaginably tragic has happened to me, it doesn't invalidate the hard time you're going through, and I don't want you to not talk to me about your life because you think it will seem petty in comparison." See - I'm a hypocrite and I have different rules for different situations. And different moods. And people. Anyway, I really did feel quite sorry for this person. And that felt good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)