Friday, September 23, 2011

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

I miss my friends

My friends haven’t gone anywhere. It was I who left. After Mom died, many have offered to be there if I need to talk. It is just that I can’t. My words are gone.

I would love to return to the state of mind in which I could have long conversations about nothing and anything. You know, they were the kind of conversations that went on for hours, but only seem like minutes. They were conversations that you had no idea what you talked about later, but knew that profound truths had been shared along with a lot of silly nonsense. I seem to have lost that ability to share in this way.

Twitter had become my favorite online site. It kept me in touch with the latest news. I also had a few friends that I connected with and shared thoughts and music. But, after Mom died I couldn’t be there at all. It was all just too noisy. I don’t want to lose touch with these friends, but in many ways I already have.

I find myself at times lurking on Twitter. Conversations between friends go on around me in a carefree way. I miss being a part of them, but can find a way in. It is as if we are in different worlds and maybe we always were.

I no longer spend much time there. It is just too hard. As of late, I have tried forcing myself to reach out, but it is so difficult to do. I can’t talk about the trivial stuff that is the main content of most conversations as I am weighed down by my grief. I want to scream, “Can’t you see that I am in pain!” But, they can’t see that. They don’t even know I am there, mute in the corner, unable to speak. There are no words for what I am feeling. They cannot see me fighting back tears alone in my room, lit only by the screen of my laptop.

Absence of conversation and human contact forced me inside my head. But, restless thoughts have led to sleepless nights. To combat this I have started to play games on my computer and have become addicted to mahjongg. I play the simple version on Yahoo with numbers and letters. The traditional version required too much thought. I wanted and needed a mindless activity. I play as fast as I can and have found that I am most successful when I don’t think about it at all. I just click on the tiles as fast as I can. Winning is not important, it is just in the doing. Then, I found getting to the mindless state was easier if I played music. I used an old mix of 12 songs and put them on repeat. I might go through them several times in one session. I play until my eyes are too heavy to stay open. Sometimes this allows me to sleep.

But, this is only a temporary solution and I want my old life back. I want to be carefree again. But, I fear those days are gone for good. I am different now. Death changed me and there is no going back.

Life changes are inevitable. I accept that. But, I just miss what it was. I miss who I was. But mostly I miss the unconditional love that only a parent can give.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Grief is an emptiness that is soul deep

I was talking to a friend on Twitter yesterday about grief and losing loved ones. She had written that some people expect that you should be able to move on and find closure. But, we both felt that sometimes that is impossible to do. You don’t just get over it, but people want you to. Life moves on and they expect that you should too. During that conversation I posted the following:

Anyone who believes that has not suffered great loss or is in denial. Grief is a soul deep emptiness that cannot be filled. You can only hope to learn to live with it.”

They don’t understand that it is hard, nearly impossible at times to avoid the overwhelming presence of grief. I go about my daily life, but it is never far away, just waiting to suck me back in. When you lose family, it is as if part of you, your history, is gone. For me it does feel like a large piece of my heart and soul was ripped out and went with them. We were all so inter-twined… and then they were gone.

Grief over the loss of a loved one is so hard. I can’t even begin to describe it. Sometimes it is like a huge weight that is sitting on you and won’t let you up. So you just sit there or if you are still in bed, you just lay there and let it cover you like a blanket. I feel helpless as it encompasses me and everything around me. Everything I touch is somehow tainted. I see things differently. I question the motives of my friends. I feel alone and a little lost, but I am afraid to reach out to anyone. I don’t want them tainted by this as well.

At times like this we all need to bleed. It is a part of the process. We need the pain that heartache brings. It is the only thing we can feel. So we wallow in our grief. We push it around in our mind, experiencing it piece by piece, until it becomes a part of us, until we can pick ourselves up and learn to live with it.

Experience has shown me that in time the pain of loss will be less. But, it never completely leaves and we are forever changed by it.