Back in the Emotion Ocean
Author’s Note
It’s been a minute since I’ve posted. Truthfully, I am in the deep end of my emotion ocean, and it has been consuming me. The water is cold and choppy. Unpredictable. Unwelcoming. Downright hostile, actually.
I have not been writing, which is not the best choice. I also haven’t been meditating, exercising, eating right, or getting enough sleep. I wonder if there’s any connection?? LOL! I am gently encouraging myself to get back into my routines. Thank you for your patience. I’m glad you are here. I’m glad I am here. This is important for my mental health.
Whoop! There it is
On Sunday, I went to Aldi’s. Typically, Mr. J and I would do this together. Because we love being together. But this Sunday, Mr. J was lacking any motivation to do anything other than stay on the couch. (This is common with degenerative brain diseases. But I still resent it – to myself. I don’t burden Mr. J with those resentments, because it is certainly not his fault.) Because our dogs need their bologna as a reward for coming inside, and because we were out, I took myself off to Aldi’s alone to take care of this very important task.
As I walked into Aldi’s I was hit like a ton of bricks. My old friend, grief, present in full force. Grief and I have been on a sabbatical mostly for the past several weeks. I mean, she’s there, hovering in the background, but she has mostly been leaving me alone. Until now.
As I walked by the mixed nuts and headed to the chocolate, (which Mr. J consumes with great joy and in inordinate amounts) an image popped into my head. *Trigger alert* I live in deer hunting country. So I have seen deer strung up and gutted. When gutting a deer, they cut it open from stem to stern and remove the innards. That’s how I felt when I walked into Aldi’s – gutted from stem to stern. The pain was incredible and very, very physical. As I wandered up and down the aisles, I could literally feel my heart beating inside my chest. It felt, metaphorically, like my heart was pumping blood outside of my chest and all over the cart in front of me, the shelves neatly stacked with cookies, the floor, a la Creosote Man in Monte Python’s The Meaning of Life.
Dealing With My Univited Guest - Grief
I tried to ride the wave, feeling all the feels and telling myself this would pass. But it didn’t. Grief came on full force and settled inside me, demanding my attention. Refusing to leave. I reminded myself that I am in charge of my thoughts, and that my thoughts dictate my emotions. (#Science) But my body refused to believe it. I was sad and weepy. All. Damn. Day. (Updated to report: All. Damn. Week.)
I am embarrassed to admit it, but this took me by surprise. And I don’t mind telling you, I was also quite resentful. Quite resentful.
OOOFF. I brought my BIG box of tissues, a Cold pitcher of Margherita...(or big teapot) and a very large punch-bag - together with the alternating cry-punch-cry playlist.
I hear you, hon. There's that stupid funkiness of grief-resentment-grief cycling and amplifying with frustration.
No need for embarrassment! Our love-wired brains lightning strike us with grief unexpectedly, and unpredictably. There's no preparing ourselves for that shit...Mine was walking in a department store, smelling Dad's aftershave..and here was me thinking I'm fine after 4.5yrs...perhaps I was more raw after our friend passed New Years Eve...Love-grief overrides any semblance of control. I was glad I had my big sunglasses and tissues that day.
BIG hugs
Grief is rude like that, sneaking up when you don’t expect it. Blessings in this wild ride.