I'm fine!

Well, last week felt a bit bumpy. There were some good times, but at the low points, it sometimes felt as though I was smiling on the outside, whilst crying on the inside. Don't get me wrong, I can, now, just feel happy and that is lovely, but it also feels much harder to let people know when my grief is weighing me down (except when it spurts out of its own accord!), despite the fact that I promised myself that I would be honest. Knowing this is quite common in the second year is good to know, but it doesn’t really help! There’s still this dialogue that runs through my head: 'They're going to get fed-up with me', 'Why do I still feel like this?', ‘How will they react if I tell them?’, 'Why can't I manage my feelings better?', etc. I recently read an article that suggested when somebody asks how you are the best response is to say 'I'm fine', the rationale being that, if you keep saying it, it will help to achieve it. I can see the logic, act positive and it will help you be positive, but I’m not sure that it’s helpful advice (except, perhaps, that it makes it easier for other people!). I think back to the colleague of mine who said that 'fine' stands for 'f*cked inside, not explaining', and that feels a bit like where I'm at the moment. Talking about my grief always feels helpful, but that isn’t what I seem able to do at the moment! At times, I have felt quite anxious and I'm not used to that feeling of edginess and the tight feeling in my chest. I try to distract myself and wait until it passes, but it's not a great feeling! Perhaps I have been trying to ignore my feelings…

I keep trying to remind myself that B wouldn't want me to be sad. In a sense, he’s given me the freedom to carry on without him and to not mourn, but I’m not sure this helps either - I can’t just stop missing him, although it is getting easier. This got me thinking about the business of letting go, again, as that is still what it feels like (despite what I wrote on 13th July!), that I have to let go of B in order to carry on with the rest of my life. I know B would want me to be happy, he would want me to get on with my life, so why can’t I do what he would want for me? Then I wondered whether I could, perhaps, reframe this. Perhaps, I don't need to let go, perhaps it's B who is letting / has let go of me. The trouble is, this still makes me feel immensely sad, our relationship is dissolving (I know, of course, that it is, he’s dead, that’s what dead means, it’s in the past!), but I'll see if this helps… 

Sometimes, it’s the little things. I had to ring the Bank the other day about some issues with my account. I find these things stressful, anyway, but when I was put on hold for a couple of minutes the piped music started. Unusually, it was very tasteful music, a violin concerto by Bach, the only trouble was that it took me straight back to our wedding day. I didn’t cry, but suddenly the tenor of my morning changed, the presence of B’s absence once more reared its head! I remembered the lovely day we had, and I smiled, and I felt grateful, but thinking about it just reawakened the sadness!

I have varnished my finger nails! This probably seems like such a little thing, but up until now it felt too frivolous a thing to do - toe nails were alright, but not my fingers; I just couldn’t bring myself to do it! I chose a very neutral colour, not what I would have chosen previously, but it’s another small step. I have also taken off my engagement and eternity rings, as well as the ring B gave me for our 10th wedding anniversary (although I will wear this from time to time, as I used to before B died). Admittedly, this felt like a massive thing, but they’ve been off for about two weeks now and it’s been okay; they haven’t gone back on. In the end they are only rings, despite carrying a lot of emotional significance. I couldn’t, though, remove my wedding ring (yet?), or B’s, which I wear on the index finger of my right hand. Perhaps, strangely, I think I will find it easier to remove my own rather than his. Time will tell… 

Having written the above, it feels as though there are a lot of ‘perhaps’. And, perhaps (!), this explains a little of why grief is so hard. It’s feels like a pathway of bewilderment and uncertainties: ‘Why do I feel like this today? Why do I feel like crying, again? Why can’t I get over this? Why can’t I just shake myself and feel better? Why is it so hard; will it ever end? Am I being unrealistic and trying to rush through this? Am I doing this grief thing right? Why is my sleep up the spout, again? Am I going to be able to cope with… (whatever it is)? Why can’t I tell people how I feel? Why am I crying over a dead cat in a detective novel (I’m not even a cat-person!)? Why am I crying over a cycling accident in the Commonwealth Games (serious though it was)? Will I be happy again? What am I going to do now? Should I move? Etc., etc. Perhaps (!!), this is unique to me and my grief, but I suspect not. I continue to try to choose hope, to choose life, and I know I will get there (hopefully sooner rather than later!!), but I also know that that Jester, grief, can still surprise me and knock me off my feet. So, I just continue to go with the flow. Saying all this, I seemed to have regained my equanimity in the last few days. Perhaps, this is just what it's going to be like for a while, better periods with sad periods in between.