“To spare oneself from grief at all cost can be achieved only at the price of total detachment, which excludes the ability to experience happiness” -- Erich Fromm (1900-1980)
Yes. Yes. Yes. I have been having a mini nervous breakdown. Someone told me that I had already crossed the threshhold (sp?) and it was like holding on to a teddy bear I didn't need anymore. Later on I cried, got in bed with my husband's Yankee jacket and stayed there. I went to my storytelling class, came darn near shooting a taxi driver who took me in the wrong direction because he was talking on his cell phone - don't panic - I can't shoot anyone - don't have a gun. I did curse at him though. Spent the next day mostly in bed. Today I am ready to go again. Since Artie died I have crossed many threshholds; some with grace - some just tripping over them and landing on my - well you fill in that word. I have so much resistance to happiness and yet - and yet - if I allow time for my grief I can allow time for my happiness. My resistance to happiness doesn't stop me from having a lot of happy moments. There is a balance here I am always looking for. Sometimes, though, I seem to need to give myself permission to go backward in order to go forward. I took a shower this morning and when using the back brush remembered how Artie used to scratch my back on request. All the small things, all the huge things - how can we not miss them? How can we not grieve for their loss. It doesn't stop me all the time from getting out there in to the world and being me. I am trying to tame my resistance - turn it from a big growling monster to a mischievous puppy. I think the best way to do this is allow my grief when it comes; express it in some way - and then ask it for permission to get on with my writing or whatever else I want to do. If I tell my grief to go away that doesn't work for me. It's there with all the other emotions I have. Maybe some day I won't write this blog any more. I don't know. Someone stopped a grief blog saying they were joining the living. I am with the living. I'm also with the dead. Wearing our wedding rings less. Thinking of putting some (maybe one?) memento away. But - o my darling husband - I miss him so many different ways every day. I even miss the things that irritated me. No chance now to make more memories together, to make up for any time we wasted. Maybe there is. Maybe there will be. I'm just an earth bound person. Who am I to say what eternity holds? There's a lot of strength in our tears.
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