Today is my dear Mary’s birthday. Thursday, March 24th. She would have been 54 years old. I’m writing this on Monday, three days before hand and I’m already freaking out. I don’t know what to do, how to act, I’m not sure I know how to breath at this point. It’s been two and a half months and I still expect her to be home when I walk through the door at the end of the day.
7 stages of grief: Shock or disbelief, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, and acceptance/hope.
5 stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
6 stages of grief: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, and meaning
4 stages of grief: Shock and numbness, Yearning and searching, disorganization and despair, and reorganization and recovery
You understand what I’m saying here? No? Me either really except that there is a million theories and none of them, NONE OF THEM truly explain what really goes on inside someone’s head when they are grieving. I think the 5 is probably the closest to what I’m going through, minus the bargaining. There is/was no bargaining. The doctor laid it all out for me, gave it to me straight, told me there was no chance, because I told him to. I wanted it straight up, flat out, no shit. And he gave it to me that way. I didn’t want any false hope, so therefore, there was/is no bargaining.
I think my counselor explained it best, (oh, and if you haven’t figured it out, I’m writing to get this shit out of my system, or if not get it out of my system, maybe exorcise some of my demons) (and yes, I have demons, lots of fucking demons) anyway, I think my counselor explained it best when she said that the grief spectrum is not cyclical, it’s more popcornish. It jumps from spot to spot to spot. Sometimes different spots on the same day, hell, sometimes on different spots on the same hour! Denial to anger to depression back to anger back to depression to acceptance back to anger … you get the idea. There is also a great deal of anxiety thrown in. To the point of a full-blown anxiety attack, right now, as I’m typing. It’s been building over the last week.
AND I AM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!
Last Thursday – St. Patrick’s Day
Today (This Thursday) – Mary’s Birthday
This Friday – Anniversary of my brother dying
I can’t breath. I miss her so much. It still so hard every single solitary day … hour … fucking minute.
And again, I find myself in a position to apologize to you all for being the recipients of my emotional sputum. But, you didn’t have to read this far if you didn’t want to. And it is cathartic for me, so thank you for your patience and understanding.
So now, let’s move on to other things, more enjoyable things, and maybe I can get lost in something enjoyable, if only for just a little while.
Just saw a tiktok challenge of “Try to write your name without raising the pen”. Congratulations GenZ, you’ve just discovered cursive.
The wings were … a mistake … that I made a few years ago. They’ve since grew back. We won’t speak of it again.
This next one is from Leah D. From a discussion on Grief. I won’t share her’s because it’s not my place, but I will say to her, that I do understand. But, she sent me this and I agree … 100%.
And a hundred million little things sets it off every single day.
Me In High School: Eats a Gordita Supreme and a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts at midnight…loses three peanuts.
Me Now: Goes up a pant size every time I swallow my spit.
“You Shall Not Pass!”
Okay, that one REALLY made me laugh!!!
Okay, this was pretty cool and for the record, I read it straight through without any problem at all…
Apparently, it’s rude to poke someone in the forehead and say “Skip Intro” when they start talking to you.
FUCK YOU Kissinger!
Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit.
Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.
Philosophy is wondering if a Bloody Mary counts as a smoothie.
Every box of raisins is a tragic tale of grapes that could have been wine.