Tag Archives: Holidays

Time Marches On

time

Last night I had to take an anxiety pill for the first time since Thanksgiving. I thought for sure I would need to medicate myself to deal with Christmas. It was hard, but I was “ok.” Last night it just hit me – again. Nolan died! You’d think this would have sunk in by now, but it still comes out of the blue and takes me out at the knees. He died! How is that possible??? When will I wake up from this nightmare? My son died! NOLAN died! How did this happen to HIM? It’s so horrible. Walking into that bathroom day after day and night after night, where he took his last breath, is a mighty slap in the face every time. Sometimes I absorb the blow better than others. Last night it knocked me out.

This morning I woke up with a migraine – the kind of migraine that makes you nauseous, dizzy, achy. The kind of migraine that makes the light hurt and your skin supersensitive. Usually my first step is coffee and motrin. This morning I couldn’t force myself out of bed. I lay there waiting for DH and Li’l N to get up. Thankfully they did, and the quiet solitude allowed my mind to just drift. I didn’t want to take the pain away. I lay there waiting, praying, for that loud “pop” in my head that I’ve read about. I prayed for the pain Nolan described in his last precious minutes on this earth. I prayed for the dimming of the world around me. I begged for my heart to just stop beating. I cried out for that little tiny bubble on my artery to let go. Let that blood flood into my brain and blot out everything. Just let it happen. I told myself I wouldn’t call out for help. I wouldn’t try to hold on. I imagined DH coming to find me, thinking I was still sleeping. I imagined my life insurance solving our financial troubles. I called to Nolan to come and take me with him. Please, Nolan…just take me with you… But it didn’t happen. He didn’t come. That stupid little anneurysm stayed intact. I’m held here against my wishes.

My desk calendar still shows July. I haven’t been able to tear that page off. I don’t think I will. I’m packag1231141425-1(1)ing it up with the shrine from the dining room table. I began that process yesterday. You remember, the lovingly dubbed “Extracting Head from Ass” project. It’s actually a lot harder than I thought it would be. That’s probably what started my downward spiral. Each time I put something into the bin, I had to leave to break down. After putting 3 things away, I called it enough for one day. Anyway, this calendar will go into that bin. Eventually.  I can’t let it go. How ridiculous is that? It’s been written all over, doodled on, scribbled on, and yet I can’t throw it away.

Tonight we all change our calendars over. A new year begins tomorrow. A year for fresh starts, new beginnings, a blank page. You know what? I don’t want a new year. I don’t want to live in a year that Nolan doesn’t get to see. The thought of his passing being “last year” devastates me. I didn’t expect this. I won’t exist in the same year as him ever again. His life will be in “years past.” Forever. I don’t want to see the new year. I don’t want to live in a different year from him. But I don’t have a choice. I’ve surrendered already. I’m trying to relax into the abyss and trust the process. I don’t want to. I really don’t want to.

My plan for tonight was to stay home, under the covers, and pretend it’s not happening. We all know Denial is a dear friend of mine. Li’l N, however, has asked that we attend a party. He doesn’t ask that of us often. I’m going to struggle no matter where I am. If I force him to stay home and struggle with me, is that fair to him? If I send him off with DH and stay home alone, is that fair to him? He needs to see me being strong. He knows I hide in the bathroom and cry every night. He always asks to come in, and if I tell him “not right now,” he sits right outside the door and waits for me. He will greet me with a hug and a quiet “Are you ok? Do you need a pill?” He needs to see me being strong. So tonight, I will *probably* go to the party with him. If you see me there, forgive the distance in my eyes. While you rejoice the new year, please forgive my tears. I know I won’t be able to stop them. It’s just part of the journey.

I’ll share these words written in 1990. They are as true today as they were then. Strange how things come full circle.

The leaves fall as the days pass
And the sand falls through the hour glass
The sun shines, no clouds are near
But in my heart I drop a tear
I stand alone every night and day
And deep inside I feel betrayed
All love is lost, my Soul is sad
I dream of happiness I once had
When life was beautiful and everything looked bright
And I was never left feeling alone at night
Now the rain comes and my heart is cold
And forevermore I must stand alone.

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.

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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.