Grief and anxiety are a two headed asshole. Just when you thought you beat one, the other
one smacks the crap out of you from behind and starts the process all
over. Today was a rough day, I won’t
lie, it was like getting hit repeatedly with a bag of hammers. Slightly worse than hanging out with a bored
6 yr old. I think today I perfected my
fake smile; or maybe I just had this awkward look on my face in public. Let’s take a ride in the day of a “Strong Dad”
who is at the end of his rope and how you aren’t going to fix it. Think about it like the youtube video of the
kid who is on that stupid slingshot ride in Pigeon Forge and his seatbelt isn’t
all the way fastened.
Start the day with a good cry that you can’t hold back. You try to at least make it through putting
your contacts in but it falls in the sink and you know your day is going to be
shit and trust me it doesn’t get better.
Start crying again once you walk in the lonely living room that used to
start your day with a kiss and an I love you.
Now it is silent and a depressed cat just lays there looking at
you. **At this moment you probably
think, I wish I could just hug him. No,
I have morning dragon breath, I’ve already been crying, and I haven’t had
coffee. Not a good time.**
The next 2 hours are a blur.
No TV, I couldn’t tell you what I was looking at on Facebook or Twitter,
so I resort to watching videos of P which just make the situation of the day
100 times worse. Cry #4 at this
point. **Don’t think some uplifting
Facebook status is going to help. 99% of
those quote things are stupid and not even correct, I’m a nerd, I’ve checked it
before.**
Now you would think that your buddy coming over to hang out
is a good thing, and for the most part is.
In times like this people don’t need to be alone, just FYI. Then again that’s all I wanted. Enter head 2 of the monster: anxiety. I love my buddy to death, about as much as a
grown man can love another grown man, and it had nothing to do with him, you
could have inserted anyone here. My mind
starts racing, I can’t think straight, and I’m worried he’s going to ask how am
I. Well then he actually walks in. Friends are good to have, and in my situation
I have some dang good ones, but I still can barely sit still and talk to them,
it just isn’t in me. **Insert you
wanting to come over and hang out to make me feel better. Truthfully, it is a good thing. For me, today it would have put me over the
edge and I probably would have hid upstairs hoping you would leave.**
Going in public today was even worse. I was glad to see two people who gave
Penelope a prayer quilt and I could thank them.
That felt good. Then grief comes
back and I never got to bring P there.
Then anxiety smacks me in the back of the head when I realize I’m so
anxious I don’t want to sit there anymore.
I have my wife and one of my best friends there and I want to run out
when they aren’t looking, for real.
Spent the rest of the afternoon by myself. Glad to be alone, but interchange that
monster every 30 minutes and staring at P’s urn just talking to her. When I start answering myself then I’ll worry. **thinking to yourself, I probably should have
texted him today, etc. I would hit you
with the I’m fine, thanks for asking and go back to my little day of horror.**
The part that sucks is today I couldn’t be there for
Ellen. This grief process will not break
us, but just like today it will bend us to a point we yell and sit in different
rooms. Not because we love each other
less, but everybody grieves differently.
You have to accept that and just ride it out. Tomorrow might be different, who knows. I could throw some cliché in there about take
it day by day and all that, but that’s not what I’m dealing with. I’m dealing with a loss that I’ll have
forever. This loss is something that
took part of my soul with it and I have to figure out myself how to get it
back. A grieving Dad doesn’t want pills
to make him sleep, he doesn’t want to talk to somebody on a couch about how
much life sucks. He doesn’t want to go
for rides or even walk outside really. I
don’t want to look at my wife crying and have nothing. I don’t want to snap because the water hose
keeps kinking up and blow my lid outside yelling at a piece of rubber. I don’t want to numb all these emotions
because if I don’t deal with it I won’t make it.
Life would be better if I had something to make me
sleep. I probably need a 3rd
party to listen to this buzz saw in my head and help out. I need my friends to keep showing up just to
talk and make me workout. I need random
text messages and stupid animal videos.
I need to get in the Jeep and just drive with my wife. I probably should get a new water hose reel. There’s a lot of stuff grief and anxiety want
to take away from you. They won’t take
my Sweet P’s memory. They won’t take all
the fight and strength she gave me. They’ll
test it, but hey, day by day right?
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