Category: grief

I braved the cold and rain last night and bought myself a Christmas tree. It’s about 4′ tall or so – really little and cute which makes it so much easier to decorate. Haven’t had this size tree since my last year at West End.

I don’t know why I keep trying to analyze and sum up my feelings. Those things are helpful to an extent, but I just keep running over the same track most of the time, it feels like. I’m so far away from Matt now. Almost a year away from him. And I’m gaining distance each minute, each day, each week. He’s been dead for over 41 weeks now. Dead. And here I am, repeating all this stuff again, as if I need to remind myself that I live alone and am single.

But at the same time, I’m mindful of how thankful I should be for the circumstances that have brought me to this place. I could be so much worse-off than I am. I’m not suicidal. I’m kind of fond of being alive, at least some of the time. I wish I knew how to be more affirming and encouraging and inspiring to people, though. I guess this is stuff that can be learned. Maybe. If I’m not too lazy and self-centered.

Huh. Next week will be 39 weeks, and exactly 9 months.

Sometimes, when I’m alone at home, I just stand there talking to Matt. What I’m really doing is talking to myself, and the topic usually turns to how unfair it is that I can never talk to Matt again. I miss his perspectives, insights, laughter, support, love. I miss letting down my guard and being able to be completely open with him. I miss being able to expect him to microwave me soup and run me a bath when I’m feeling sick. I miss talking to him, and being in the same room without talking.

Sometimes, it’s so hard to focus on the good things that are still part of my life. There are a TON of good things still in my life, and good things that are developing, and good things yet to come (I hope). I try to be positive, and a lot of the time it isn’t even that much of a struggle (but sometimes it is).

I enjoyed the holidays last year so, so much. Now that I know more of the context surrounding them (for Matt), I think Matt might have given me those last few months as a gift – so that I wouldn’t have to deal with widowhood in the midst of Christmas. It’s speculation, but plausible and maybe even likely. I’m not looking forward to the holidays this year though. My 30th birthday is in two weeks, and I don’t even give a damn.

Sometimes – a lot of the time – I have to force myself to keep caring, or at least to keep acting like I care. I suppose that I’ve had to do this several times throughout my life, but it’s been pretty consistent over the last 9 months.

I should stop waiting for something to happen. I should start making things happen.

Today has been busy. I have literally had to calm myself the last few times that the phone has rung because I feel like screaming into it. But I wouldn’t do that. I would kinda like some stress balls right now, though. Less than an hour to go and things have calmed down/I have caught up (thus the blogging at work).

I miss Matt.

Grief is such a strange, strange thing. Matt is not always in the back of my mind; sometimes I completely forget that I’m sad. Frequently though, I still see two different paths in my life – the one that I’m on now, and the one that I would have been on. I was better at being single in my 20’s, guys. These days I just want to go home after work most of the time. Not like anything much is going on there – it’s just comfortable and peaceful and I don’t have to exert myself talking to people.

I’ll start getting out more. The first step is getting more exercise, which I’ve been doing. I’m not sure what the second step is going to be, but I’ll probably know it when I see it. Honestly, this is more normal behavior for me anyway; the first few months after Matt died I was desperate for company and to be surrounded by people who love me. I guess it’s probably good that I’m getting back to my normal introverted self, right? I mean, as long as I don’t go overboard and become an obese hermit – right? I don’t foresee either of those things happening, so I’m think I’m OK.

So…a week into November, I’m remembering that I need to start thinking about Christmas presents, and I want to make it known that this year’s gifts aren’t going to be NEARLY as great as they usually are. I’m doing better but I’m still not happy-chipper-motivated all the time, especially when it comes to planning Christmas gifts. (*sigh*) I might even buy everyone’s gifts this year. Sorry in advance, but I’ll try to do better next year…..

I didn’t write last week on purpose. And I don’t have much to say this week either.

For as pitiful as I’ve felt over the last couple of weeks, I’m doing a great job of not collapsing into despair or anything. I like being melodramatic here. I hold myself to a certain standard of minimal bitching and no pity parties when I’m around people, but a part of me wants to be able to let go of my self-restraint and ask for pity or love or whatever. Does that make sense? Part of me wants to be an attention whore, but my only outlets for that are Katie/Mom, and this blog. When I make melodramatic statements here, I usually completely mean them.

My brain isn’t working well enough to write today…..

Oh, and happy Halloween. Woo hoo.

I don’t feel beauty the way I used to. I hope this is temporary. Beauty used to arrest me, almost taking me by surprise. Lately though, when I notice something beautiful, I react one of two ways – if it reminds me of Matt , then all I can think about is him; otherwise, I just feel kind of numb. I know I should be moved by beauty…but I can’t force it.

I hope this goes away soon.

I went to bed pretty early last night and woke up right before my alarm went off. I was already feeling more depressed than usual (I don’t know why), so I got out of bed and took a walk around the block. Less than a mile, but the air was crisp and the sky was overcast and everything felt congruous with my mood. (Plus I read an email from a friend about “fat girl fetishes” before I even got out of bed, and feel that I need to work on not being so fat.)

So lately, I’ve had little desire to be social at all. It’s possible that I just don’t feel like expending the energy necessary to plan or think about social outings – after all, I was pretty sociable this weekend. I can just picture myself turning into a middle-aged miser who goes to work and then sits around the house reading or watching TV. This is extremely easy to picture, actually, because currently most of my weekdays consist of going to work, and then sitting around the house reading and watching TV.

This morning, while I was still in bed, I had a flashback to when I was living on campus at Lipscomb. I had forgotten that I used to get depressed there. I had no friends and no car, and even though I could walk to Green Hills I really only did that to go to the grocery store or the Donut Den. Plus I felt ugly and fat most of the time, and I never had any money. I definitely had some good days – I remember how I used to open the window in the dorm as far as I could, and watch Harold and Maude to make myself feel better….or the many times I would wrap up in my cloak and take a carafe of hot water plus a mug to a deserted place on campus to read. But…the depression I experienced then was circumstancial, and when I moved to West End I don’t remember it lingering.

I know that whatever depression I feel now is also circumstantial and I don’t expect it to linger for years, or anything. I’d very much like to get rid of it, though.

I’m feeling oddly restless today. I want to go do things that don’t involve sitting in an office. I want to love people, and to be loved. I want to feel wind in my hair and rain on my face. I want to spend the rest of the day in a forest with some paper and a pen.

Why am I so restless?