Green-Eyed Monster

green-eyed-monster

There. The Christmas tree is by the fire pit. The pine needles are vacuumed up. The presents are (almost) all put away. Done. It’s over. I survived. Mostly.

You hear how holidays are the worst time of year for many people. Obviously to those grieving or mourning, but also to those who suffer from depression or mental illness. It’s the time of year when we are supposed to surround ourselves with family and friends. We are supposed to count our blessings out loud. For those who are missing pieces of their Soul or whose loved ones are gone (yes, I know they’re not really *gone* but we can’t hold them or touch them or see them, so that counts as gone), this is a very difficult time of year. I’ve been isolating myself since Thanksgiving. I’m having trouble counting my blessings. I’m jealous of you. Yes, you. You, who are buying presents for all your children. You, who have to hurry up and clean your house for family. You, with your stupid Elf on a Shelf. You, who are complaining about “I wants” from your kids. You, who are running around like crazy to make it to all of your children’s performances, activities, sports, etc. You, who are posting incessantly all your family photos of smiling faces and holiday joy.

I’m jealous. It’s not just a little jealous. It’s the ugly jealous. It’s the kind of jealous that makes me want to reach through the computer and punch you in the face. It’s the jealous that makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs and claw your eyes out. I feel rage. I feel violent, and for those who know me personally, you know I’m the least aggressive person. It’s hard to admit this. Nobody wants to hear it. We’re supposed to be filled with love for our fellow man this time of year. I’m filled with anger, aggression, violence, agony, sorrow. I hate you right now. Even though I don’t really hate You, I hate everything about your life. I hate your baking wcrazy womanith your children. I hate your Christmas carols. I hate your picking out a tree as a family. I hate your cookie swaps. What’s so special about you that you get to keep all your children while one of mine lays in the cold, frozen ground? Why do YOU get to spoil your son rotten, when he has been bullying my Li’l Man? How dare you throw in my face the happiness in your home! That’s how Facebook has felt to me this season. My filters, never really high-functioning, are on the fritz. So I’ve stayed offline. I haven’t responded to texts or emails. I haven’t answered the phone. It’s safer for all of us that way.

You wouldn’t know any of this by looking at me. I’m becoming so good at hiding my feelings. I’ve had loads of company at my house, and I’ve been “fine.” I’m smiling and joking with you. I’m open and welcoming to you and your family. I actually do appreciate the house filled with people because it’s just too lonely when there are only 3 of us. Inside, however, all this ugliness swirls around, eating at the very core of who I am. I have this darkness inside of me that left unchecked will blacken my heart. I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t know how to stop, though. I’m praying that these emotions will prove transient as emotions usually do. I hope. Fingers crossed.

In the meantime, I’m working on a personal project I’ve dubbed “Extracting Head from Ass.” I have to find a way to fill my days again. I feel the whispers telling me to start moving. I don’t know in which direction to go. I’m starting small. I need to get my house in order. It’s been in limbo Since. My dining room has become a Shrine to Nolan’s passing. I still have tupperware and dishes left behind from his Service. (If any of it is yours, and you want it, come get it!!) I have all the sympathy cards we received. I have all the funeral cards. I have everything “Nolan” on that table.

1229141019

So it’s time to clean it off. It’s time to package it in boxes tied with beautiful ribbons. It’s time to put his passing away. I’ll never put him away, but all this memorabilia is holding me encased in stone, and I have to figure out how to move. Did I say I was starting small? Untrue. The first step is the longest stride.

7 thoughts on “Green-Eyed Monster”

  1. I can only imagine that this is how I would feel. Anger and rage and jealousy. I’ve no right to say I understand because I haven’t lived in this torture that you all have. I’m so proud of you and love you and whatever you are feeling…I’m still going to always love you.. even when you hate me…I’ll still love you.

    Like

  2. I don’t know how many moms feel like I do when I think about You losing Nolan, but I feel like “why you?” Why not me? I don’t deserve anymore then anyone else to bask in the love of my son and still be able to touch him. I get your jealousy. I think I would be too. It does not seem fair. Any kind of feelings that your having, im ok with being your, for lack of a better term, punching bag. I don’t get to see you much, but if you ever need someone to yell at, use me up! I don’t pretend to understand, I just sympathize. And I know why you feel the way you do. And it can’t be helped for now. Love you:)

    Like

  3. It is a huge deal that you are thinking of doing something with all the “stuff”. Trying to figure out a way to fill your days….I know the kids would love to have you back at school but I understand that may be too difficult….I think it is progress…one step at a time…one day at a time…..
    Very proud of you!!!!!

    Like

  4. I just can’t imagine what your going through but watched my Mom go through it losing two children and two grandchildren. Just know that we care.

    Like

  5. I understand this jealousy. Why is everything returning to normal and the world keeps turning and yet your world has crashed. Why is everything continuing as it was before and we have lost our beloved son Jim. Why wasn’t it me??? I have lived my life! Why am I walking around and he is not here or with his family?? How is this possible?? I know I am not moving on. I have pictures, his urn all of it. I can’t put it away. I admire you for this. The other day I wanted so much to hug him, tell I love him and how proud we have always been of him. I hugged the urn and cried. I never got to kiss him goodbye, I wasn’t able to say how much I love him one more time, I wasn’t able to see him. I am so very angry at myself for not having the courage to see him. He died in an accident and everyone told me I shouldn’t see him and to remember him the way he was. He was my baby and he died alone. I often wonder if people die of a broken heart because there are so many days I wish I was dead. I know your pain and I wish that it were possible that no more moms will face the suffering that comes with loss. If only it was possible.Pray for me as I pray for you.

    Like

    1. I think it is possible to die of a broken heart. It’s a slow, tortuous death. I believe Jim wasn’t alone when he passed. I believe there were loved ones waiting for him. I have to believe that. Even though my DH and I were both with Nolan, even though I had my hand on his chest when he drew his last breath, it was a Journey he went on without us. I have to believe he was met immediately by loved ones who he would recognize and feel safe with. This is the most excruciating pain anyone could ever feel. The depth of our pain is directly proportionate to the depth of our love for them. It knows no bounds. I will hold you in my heart and in my prayers that you find signs from Jim and know he is with you still. Love Never Dies.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s