Monday again

I just wanted to say that I had a dream about Matt last night. The storyline, if you can call it that, is extremely fuzzy right now, but somehow Matt had been away for about as long as he’s been dead, but he’d been with some guy friends who I’d met but didn’t know (actually, Tim Barringer was one of them). I remember being SO overjoyed to see him finally, but that he was hesitant to let me get close to him.

It didn’t really end because my alarm went off, and it was such a striking dream that I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I checked Facebook instead and read this poem that Dawn had posted on Matt’s wall; that, coupled with the dream (and everything else really) had me on the bathroom floor crying at 7:15 this morning. This morning feels like Monday #4 – that’s how distant I feel from Matt’s death right now. I wanted to stay huddled in bed all morning, crying and sleeping.

But instead I’m at work, like always.

Days like today everything seems unimportant. What does it matter? Who cares — or anyway, why should I care?

I opened up to this today —

Empty your mind of all thoughts.
Let your heart be at peace.
Watch the turmoil of beings,
but contemplate their return.

Each separate being in the universe
returns to the common source.
Returning to the source is serenity.

If you don’t realize the source,
you stumble in confusion and sorrow.
When you realize where you come from,
you naturally become tolerant,
disinterested, amused,
kindhearted as a grandmother,
dignified as a king.
Immersed in the wonder of the Tao,
you can deal with whatever life brings you,
and when death comes, you are ready.

Serenity. The only good thing is that Matt isn’t hurting.

22

I’m not sure how I feel about saying it, but this week has been pretty normal.

What that means is that I’ve felt happy to have people in my life who love me, and other days I’ve felt despondent because I have no one with whom to share my life anymore. I’ve spent evenings with friends. I’ve spent evenings alone. I’ve picked up my guitar this week and been surprised and how much I don’t really suck. I’ve crocheted a scarf for a friend (Matt’s best friend – besides me of course – and I’m doing it 1) for Matt, but 2) because anyone who he loved, I love. There aren’t many things that I can DO, but I feel like this is one thing that I CAN do. Even if she doesn’t like it (I’m pretty sure she will), I’m still doing it for Matt so I’m not worried.) I’ve read a lot. I’m never late for work.

I haven’t had any brilliant insights this week. I suspect that my brain is getting used to everything enough that I’m not constantly thinking about it, but also twenty-two weeks of pain, anguish, longing, loneliness, despair, anger, and all those emotions that come when your husband kills himself are not easy to bear and my brain might also be trying to let up some. I’m not sure. I’m just remembering that every step is a victory and that I’m going to keep going.

One thing I’m excited about – that expensive purse is finally delivering today (supposedly anyway)! I can’t wait to get off work today! Although I have a party tonight that I’m supposed to go to…which I don’t want to go to. The only reason that I might is because my friend Philip has really turned out to be a good friend to have over the last few months, and I want him to know that I appreciate it. I’ve been trying to figure out how I can go and not stay very long. If it was just going to be him and maybe one or two of his friends, that would be one thing. But also I’m like 5 years older than everyone else who is going to be there, and I know Philip is pretty mature but I don’t know about everyone else.

Oh, my social woes!!

Anyway. At least I have a friend who wants me to come to a party he’s having. 🙂 That’s a good thing.

I hate to wait.

I’m in a dissatisfied mood and felt like writing about it.

So I continue to change. When I read back over blog entries from a few months ago, it’s obvious. Everything was ALL ABOUT Matt’s absence before, and it was all that I could think about or focus on. I still feel all of that, but it’s different now. I don’t struggle as much with the fact that Matt is dead. I still ask him why he left me, but it’s more rhetorical than ever.

As I’m learning to accept this, I feel like – in the back of my mind somewhere – I expect things to start getting “back to normal.” The problem with this is that “back to normal” still means doing the same things that I’ve grown accustomed to over the last 5 + years. I can’t just flip a switch and revert back to my pre-Matt self either – that person was in school and working full time and I wouldn’t want to be that person again anyway. So I have to find something new. I know these upcoming months will be essential in helping me to be grounded again, just like the last few months have been horribly healing and necessary.

So I guess I’m complaining about the waiting. Is that REALLY all I can do??

I keep reminding myself that I’m not supposed to make any major decisions the first year after a major tragedy like this. I’m not really about to make any, but I keep getting tempted. I just want to start over sometimes. I want to move to a place where no one knows me (though it might be nice if one person came with me). Maybe a farming compound somewhere north. Sounds so appealing.

*sigh*

so many evenings are still spent just going through the motions. this evening, I’ve been cleaning the house and just realized that each room is pretty well in order, and everything looks neat and clean. and good…but currently it’s just making me feel emptier. so my house is clean. so I’m able to make myself go through all the motions. yay. (hope you can hear the lack of enthusiasm in my tone….)

in this moment, I’m reminding myself that every step is still a victory.

Twenty one and a day

Yesterday was kinda busy. And I didn’t have a ton to say (still don’t). And I was too lazy to log into WordPress.

So it’s been over 21 weeks. If I was counting the weeks of pregnancy, I’d be half-way there. I wonder how long I’ll be able to keep up with the weeks that have passed.

This week has been pretty decent, and crying spells have been short and fairly infrequent (though not far from my mind when I’m alone). Being alone has been easier though. I’m getting more used to it. I seem to feel the best when I can spend 4-5 evenings out of the week with friends, and have a couple left to myself. I don’t particularly enjoy being alone yet, but I still get tired from social over-exertion.

Everything still reminds me of Matt. I still think about him every day, and miss him all the time. He’s becoming more distant as time passes, which is fucking depressing but also a necessary step in healing. And I want to heal, as long as I can’t have Matt anymore.

I continue to be so thankful for Ryan and for my family. I love all you guys so much.

Bananas are good for you, right?

In the interest of being healthy, I am having banana pudding for lunch. Just thought I’d let you all know.

And in the interest of not over-spending, I bought myself a new purse which I spent WA-HA-HA-HAY too much money on. I’m telling myself that it’s a No-Dependents-Yet gift from me to me. (In truth, this happened on Monday but I’m still waiting for it to deliver.) (Or I would show you a picture.)

Tuesday brings yet another brilliant title

I just don’t want to think about titling my entries this early in the morning. Or ever.

So it’s Tuesday morning. I’ve had a very bittersweet week so far. I am a single woman about to be 30 years old. I live by myself with my 3 cats. I have to be responsible for things like mowing my lawn (no one else is going to take care of it), and things like not over-eating or spending too much money. I have to look out for my best interest. You wouldn’t think that it would be such a difficult thing, but sometimes it is.

I had a good weekend, full of low-stress interactions with people who I like. Yesterday I came home from work and mowed the lawn, then straightened the house some. Changed my sheets, did a load of laundry. Had a sandwich and leftover mashed potatoes for dinner. Watched some TV. Read a little, cried when the mood struck me.

Why do I keep talking to Matt in the first person? Obviously he can’t hear me, and won’t ever hear me again. I know this…and sometimes I even talk to him inside my head – because that’s the only place that he’s still alive? I don’t know. How long will I feel the need to talk to him? How long should I keep his FB page up? You know, it’s been almost 5 months. They said that the initial shock lasts about 6 months generally, and then your life starts settling down again. Of course everyone’s grief is different. I don’t quite know what to expect. I just realized today that the 6 month mark is one day before Matt’s birthday.

I need to start working on being healthy. I know Matt would want that (…curse words…). I know it would make me happier and feel better. Hell, I feel better just after mowing the lawn yesterday, and it’s not like that was strenuous cardio or anything. I’ve been making an effort to eat better already but need to continue that. It’s harder when I’m just cooking for myself.

I have all these good intentions, but I am still so bad at following through sometimes. I don’t know how much of my lack of motivation is because of Matt, and how much is because of my general laziness. I feel like, as long as I’ve been single almost 5 months, that I should be able to organize and motivate myself to be better. And I guess I’m still making slow progress.

I so much want to become a better person because of all this bullshit. Do I act different? I know I feel different. I really, really want ANYthing positive that can come out of this. Yes, I have plenty of time to keep learning. Yes, I wish Matt was here too. I have to keep remembering how glad I am that he is not in such intense pain anymore. I wish there was a way he could see how much I miss him though, and feel loved.

Oh well.

Anyway, just needed to ramble a bit.

a poem

Hope this isn’t obnoxious, but I really liked this poem.

Try to Praise the Mutilated World
(Adam Zagajewski)

Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June’s long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere,
you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the gray feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.

Twenty

Oh Matt, I miss you so much. I’m sorry you were in so much pain, and I’m sorry I couldn’t take it all away. I really, really wanted to. You were the most precious person in the world to me, and I can’t believe that I couldn’t save you.

It’s humbling to realize that so much is just out of my control.

Sarah

I forgot to mention – it’s Sarah’s birthday. She was born 6 years ago at 7pm – this time on that day I was trying to ignore the faint contractions and probably cleaning the house or watching TV.

Matt accused me of loving him as a replacement for Sarah. I finally convinced him that he was completely wrong last year. I know he could see how much I loved him… I think that he wasn’t really able to compute it, though.

The situation with Sarah has been a little comforting lately, because I know that time has healed that wound. It’s a completely different kind of wound of course, but it has a similar root – losing someone who you love.

Anyway. As long as I’m uploading pictures, here is one from 6 years ago.
blog - sarah 2007

And here’s one from this year, which I stole from Janet’s FB page….
blog - sarah 2013