On Grieving
There are a lot of things I don't know how to do. I don't know how to change the tire on a car. I don't know how to operate a dishwasher. I don't know to ice skate without hurting myself. But, among all of those things, the most daunting thing is that I don't know how to grieve. Every person that I have spoken to has assured me that everyone grieves differently, and that I should take all the time I need. But I'm worried that I'm just not doing it right.
In the last year I lost a friend to an overdose, a friend to suicide, and my mother due to a package bomb that was delivered to her workplace. I can't say that any of these were easy things to comprehend, let alone cope with. I've yet to have a day pass where I don't think of any of these people. They all meant very much to me and my life has certainly changed for the best because of them. I want to do everything in my power to live my life and honor them. But what does that mean?
"How do you deal with all of it?"
I've honestly anticipated this question more than I've heard it asked of me, but my answer is somewhat straightforward: one day at a time. With all of these losses, especially my mother's, there is so much that I don't understand and that I fear I will never understand. I can't justify dwelling on it all and hoping that something will improve. I've come to learn that that's just not how life goes. There is so much to life in the small and the big, in the order and the chaos, and in the old and the new. So much is overlooked and taken for granted. In the last month, I've learned that that is not how I want to lead my life anymore. There's something in everything, if you look close enough with an open mind.
"When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the man who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!"
- Cave Johnson, Portal 2 (2011)
The most surprising thing that I've noticed, out of everything in the last month, is that I've yet to be truly angry or mad in regards to the event. I've been sad, scared, helpless, confused, and everything in between, but I have yet to feel any animosity whatsoever. Instead, I think that a lot of those emotions have been filled with depression and anxiety. But that's what I would prefer, if I had the choice. At least I'm used to those emotions.
The closest I came to any sort of anger, is from the utter lack of respect that the media showed when they constantly harassed my family and me. Even then, I understand where they're coming from: it's their livelihood and they need to do what they need to do, in order to make a living. I just can't sufficiently articulate how much I despise being the center of attention, especially when they sensationalize everything that did and did not happen. The other thing that bothers me is when people try to tell me how I feel and what I'm thinking. I don't even know how I feel or what I'm thinking, so I don't know how anyone else would.
There are just so many things that I experienced in the last month that I never thought I would have decide, talk about, or even think of. It feels like I haven't slept in a month, and that's starting to catch up with me.
I want to be able to say that I've grown as a person or learned valuable lessons from everything, but I just simply can't. There's no story here, there's no moral lesson, there's no silver lining. It's all pain manifesting in unexpected ways every day. It's been a month, and nothing is getting better. The only difference is that I've gathered the composure to lead a normal life and interact with people without breaking down. The more I try to think about it, the more I feel my brain dumping every thought into my subconscious and the more speechless and thoughtless I feel...
One thing that I've particularly developed an anxiety-ridden reaction to is responding to condolences. I don't know what to say. I don't think other people know what to say. Nobody knows what to say, nobody knows what to do, and nobody knows... why this all happened. That last one keeps me up most nights. This is all such an emotion vortex that I get sucked in and zone out to oblivion if I let myself ruminate for too long. That's why I've tried to keep myself occupied for the last month.
I've made a steady effort to get out and spend time with people every day, learn new things, and be the best that I can for everyone. This isn't meant to be a sob story, and I'm not asking for anything from anyone. I just needed to write this to give an update. I'm living my life, day by day, to the best of my ability. I think that's the most that one can ask for, when considering the circumstances.
I especially want to thank those closest to me for taking care of me, for checking up on me, and for helping me with the unimaginable. Y'all are the best. If you would like to reach out, feel free to do so by whatever means you know of. I'll do my best to have a timely response, but sometimes it's hard.
Life is short, Earth is small, and we are but morsels of matter in the universe. As Ted "Theodore" Logan, portrayed by my alter-ego, was once advised: