Grief. Honest comments, poetry, and stories. Grief. All aspects all kinds. Before I lost my husband on July 17, 2009 I didn't understand the depth of grief and I also didn't understand the pressure from the world to live a double life - the one where you pretend to be "okay" and the one where you are real.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Grief: Honesty About Grief Turned Me Into A Blogger
Why become another blogger? Good grief. That's why. My beloved husband Artie died a little over a year ago. If you grieve more than 3 - 6 months you are now considered to have mental disorder called complicating grieving. You are supposed to let go and move on. Anything wrong with holding on tight and moving on together? Do you think you can't talk to your dead? Do you think death wins? Do you think that you can't go out and have great time; talk and laugh and then come home and cry and curse? It's time to be honest about grief. A child, a spouse, a friend, a pet - grief has no time limit. I am not here to talk about hope. I am not saying there is no hope - just that I am tired tired tired of people's expectations that now that a year is past I am better, I am fine, I am okay. I am not. I am miserable. I miss my husband. Every morning do I wake up to a warm hug? No. I wake up to an empty bed. His spirit is with me but oh, how I miss his face, his arms, his voice, his laugh. There is this whole underground movement of grieving people talking to each other because it is now considered abnormal to continue to grieve past a certain time. I will never be the woman I was when my husband was alive. I am in NYC doing a lot of things. The first comedy sketch writing class I took the teacher asked why I was there - I said, "My husband's dead. I think I'll do comedy." I talk about him - and about grieving because so many people won't except in secret places. It's not mental illness; it's not depression - it's grief. That is why I've titled the blog Stop Thief: Don't Steal My Grief. On Tuesday I will be returning to the house where we lived in CA because I feel like I need to say goodbye. The house is empty and for sale - but our bed is still there and I will sleep in it for the last time. Some folks say "Have fun!" Are you kiddding? Will it be fun to see the house where I shared so much love empty - to be in the living room that turned into the dying room because he died there? No. But it's important to me to do it - because when I left I packed as quickly as I could and ran away. Couldn't stand the house without HIM in it. A friend who is a filmmaker will be filming me telling stories in the empty house. Then up to San Francisco - and then to Seattle for my daughter's birthday. Life and death all mixed up together. I will also be posting poems and stories and see if anyone reads this thing. Keep strong - and don't be afraid that your real emotions are not normal no matter what anyone says - and don't think you have lost yourself - you are finding yourself - and you are alone and not alone at the same time - who woudn't be confused in that situation!
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