Sunday, July 17, 2011

The Tides Have Changed

I feel just awful.  I can't seem to shake it.  The pain is intensifying.  I feel like no matter what I do, no matter where I am, it is always going to be there.  I know this is true, but at the same time I welcome any kind of relief from it.  The weight is crushing these days.  I'm not sure why it has gotten so much harder than it ever was in the previous months.  But it is.  Nothing I do helps anymore.  I'm taking time to find a new therapist.  I need something.  Anything.  I just don't know how I'll ever move through this current state of mind.  It seems almost impossible that a person could survive this amount of heartache.  I have no idea how this is done.  How it's been done for centuries upon centuries by every human.  Loss.  I know there are myriad ways that humans experience death and life after.  How do we survive?  How do we pick up the pieces and keep moving?  I wish I knew.  It completely blows my mind on a constant basis that this has happened.  That he really is dead and gone.  Was he even real?  Was he ever mine?  I have to remind myself.  I know that might sound absurd, but I really do have to remind myself.  Having him with me, near me; hearing his voice, being able to reach out and touch him... it seems like it was just a dream.  The time that has passed isn't long at all, and yet it feels like he's lifetimes away.  Like our intense love together was a dream I'd had once. 

What am I going to do?  How will I live?  What do I want?  I have no idea how to answer these questions that I ask myself daily.  Just thinking about those questions creates a giant knot in my stomach.  Fear and pain all bundled up into one obstruction deep down in the pit.  I want to break it up and allow it to flow through me.  But it just seems to grow larger.

In earlier entries I spoke often about the pain but knowing that I would be ok.  These days, that is not where my mind goes.  Now, I'm not sure.  The pain is blinding.  I can't see forward most of the time.  I can see no light.  I still know deep down that I will not literally die from this pain, but feeling it so heavily really does make me wonder.  I know that I will never be the same again.  Certain things will not change, but I don't think anyone can go through something this tragic and come out the same as they were before.  I know that I will miss TJ every day for the rest of my life.  I hope that it won't always be this painful.  I can't see how it could be, but really, what do I know?  I've never done this before.

I had a long evening with an old classmate a few weeks ago.  Three years ago, her husband was severely beaten and after nine months in a coma passed away.  While we talked, I told her "I know I'll be ok".  I can't remember her exact words, but I think she was very surprised at that statement.  That I could be so sure that I'd be ok eventually.  She shared with me that she never felt sure.  And now I get it.  I completely understand the surprise.  I am surprised that I could blindly repeat that to myself over and over and believe it wholeheartedly.  I can't force my mind to go there anymore.  I try to be optimistic, but it's a lot harder now.  I understand where she was coming from.  The doubt is overwhelming for me now.

The only thing I knew for certain when TJ died that morning was that this was going to be hell.  That it would be the hardest thing I would ever have to do in my entire life.  I stood at the threshold of this new existence with my arms open and my head back, pushing out my chest.  Bring it on.  I said all the time that I didn't care how bad it got.  That I just wanted to feel it.  Well, it's pretty fucking bad right now.  It could get worse.  It could get better.  It could get worse again.  And as brave as I felt taking on this new journey, I'm not feeling so brave anymore.  I want to avoid this pain.  I want to find any type of relief.  God, please help me.  

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