Since the advent of working until 5 during the week my crazy sleep schedule has evened out a bit. With the inability to nap in the afternoon before needing to be places I have to go to bed earlier... so this whole 3 AM thing is not as happy as I'd like it to be. But a blogger must blog, and so blog I must.
So anyway. Emotions.
I've got 'em. Boy howdy, do I got em. And after last week I've been thinking. Last Wednesday was a hard day. So hard that I went to a friend's house just for the company. Let's call him Chuck.* Yes, it was a male friend, but he's like a cousin to me, so don't start gettin' any ideas. Men are comforting to me, remember? Plus this guy is about the lowest key person I know, so I didn't feel like I had to be on. I didn't have to entertain, I didn't have to be entertained, I just wasn't alone. I did this on purpose. Cause I knew at some point or another I was gonna feel it... and if I feel it when I'm alone I get so miserable and I don't have a place to go for comfort.
So there I was, tra la la, eating my salad, working on homework, and thinking... mainly just thinking, though, honestly. All day there was this cloud over my head. A huge stormhead that just made things dark and threatening. So finally I'd had enough. I went chasing the storm. I went and read things we'd written. Things from last year. Things from 2 years ago. My thoughts, Nathan's thoughts, memories. And there it was. The breakdown I'd been feeling rising all day. So I read Nathan's words, "I'm alive" from this time last year and I read about what I thought was going to be our one lost year. And I cried because it was really our one last year and when it started hurting too bad I went and found Chuck and forced him into a teary hug and one of those awkward silences where you aren't really done hurting, but neither of you really know what to say either...
Then Chuck, bless him, tried to fill the silence...
Boys try to fix things. I think most of us are aware of this stereotype... They try to fix things and they are generally thinkers, not feelers. Well, in this situation the stereotype held true. He didn't know what to do, so he started to try and find a way to fix the situation. He can't really bring Nathan back, so the problematic element was that I knew what day it was. If I didn't know what day it was, I wouldn't be so sad. Did I have a calendar with all these anniversaries on it somewhere? Cause there seem to be a lot.
No, if I had a calendar with all this recorded I would be holding a ceremonial bonfire. And the reason why there are a lot? Well, these used to be celebration days... but more than that... Nathan was the most important thing in my life. I don't really mess around with loving someone. Everything I knew/was/did, was wrapped up in my love for this man. So I notice the passing of time without him. I remember the days that were significant to us. I remember the days that changed my life.
I mentioned the blogs, and Chuck found something to latch on to. I shouldn't read those things. Re-reading blogs isn't always a good idea at the best of times, much less the worst of times. And I admitted that maybe I shouldn't have done that... and by then my emotions were beginning to settle, and so I got distracted by a cool lamp and soon I could go back in the other room and entertain myself.
But here's where we get to the heart of the matter. Because after much thought, I believe that I did exactly what I should have done. My emotions are not the problem that needs to be fixed. My tears aren't the issue. The problem is that my husband died. Because of this, I have a lot of symptoms (emotions and tears) but the "fix" to the problem is healing. I have to heal. And sometimes the way to heal is to let yourself feel where it hurts- Which can cause tears.
The thing is that death causes emotions... and trying to ignore those emotions, or quash them when they do arise isn't healthy... it's (pardon the crass-ness of the analogy) emotional constipation. I don't dwell in my sadness... that's actually what I was trying to avoid by getting company for that night. Just hunkering down in my pain. So did I try to bring on a little bit of that breakdown? Yes. But it was like taking something that makes you throw up when you accidentally ingest poison. I knew I could cry, get my hug and my uncomfortable silence and then the dark cloud could pass. Last Thursday was 8 months... but it was ok... I think in no small part because I just face and deal with what I can when I can. When it hurts, I let it hurt. But when it's time to laugh... I laugh.
I'm not at all upset with my friend. I think that boys are taught to quash their emotions a lot more than girls are... especially country kids. He was actually trying to be helpful, because he cares about me which is in it's own way healing to me... and he helped me realize that sometimes I do act as though my tears are the problem, rather than the symptom. I'm still a country stoic at heart... and I don't want to freak people out, so I keep the sorrow hidden behind so many walls. But tears are cleansing, too. And I think I need to remember that as long as I stay open enough to notice the cool lamps and don't just set up camp in my sorrow, it's still ok to cry. You can't logic away emotions. But, if I can feel the emotions then I can release them, and trying to convince myself that this day or that day doesn't mean anything isn't going to do me any favors.
I just have to keep dealing with today. And forcing awkward silences on them.
*Chuck is not at all his real name, he just plays a bit of an antagonist in this particular story so I didn't want to use real names as he's actually a fabulous bloke, and not an antagonist at all.
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