The powerlessness…

The powerlessness

Watching as people slip away.

In so many areas…

How do I will you…better?

How do I will you…to heal?

How do I will you…to see me, to love me, to choose me?

The things that I would do to you with just a couple seconds
I would color every moment, make you feel like it’s forever…

So much will, so much fight [Nobody fights like me], so much strength, so much resilience. All to withstand the inevitable.

Because it’s clear I’m getting bigger
I know you visualize my figure
I was the one that made you look
At your old girl and reconsider
You see me in that black dress…
…And I’m causin’ frustration on your mind
Only in the best ways

When there wasn’t a call, I shook. When the card finally came late, I shook. When she thought I was her, I shook. When the second card came, I shook. When I kept having flashbacks to her forgetting me, I shook. When I saw the truth…all the truths, I shook. I berate myself sometimes, saying that these things are small. I need to be stronger. I need to shield myself from being so affected. Why is this so upsetting? Why do I let these things effect me so? And then I am reminded that she is losing sight of me more and more. And that is agony. Agony. And on top of that, sometimes I feel like certain members of my support system also loses sight of me. That too is agony. And those things are not small.

I am shaken. Stop moving. Stop running. Stop pushing. Stop leaving. Stop. STOP. 

Secretly I’m anxious, ’cause the thirst has never been mutual
It’s unusual…But just when you think you have forever [they have] you lost in your emotions, and you hate feeling so alone and you’re sinking because you know…

Grief is a demanding companion. Whether you’re grieving a loss or a betrayal or a disappointment. Sometimes grief demands to be felt. The fog sometimes lasts only a couple minutes or hours, but sometimes it’s a couple days. A fog of grief and anxiety. Full of shaking and restlessness and many tears. The grief is like a wave. It just ripples through me. Such an immense and sudden sadness rising up and pulsating through me. Tearing me open and reminding me..I am not immune.

My grief simmers, and lingers, and festers. Constantly. About many things. It’s not that I hold onto things. Rather, it’s that I try to control the grief. The Emily Post version of reacting to things – there is a time and place for these things. For me specifically – in private. The crying, the shouting, the screaming, the admission of truths that you don’t tell many people, the curling up in a ball and holding myself together…that is for me. Loss, grief, and disappointment are profoundly personal.

Nothing lasts forever
Nothing lasts forever baby
Nothing lasts forever

I feel so changed by this whole process. I don’t feel completely like myself. For instance: my sister was just here and god…she is so full of life. I boasted about her while she was here that everyone should have someone like her in their lives – someone who pours boundless joy and love into this world and onto you. She walks into a room and the whole universe lights up. When I explained to a close friend that I was feeling sad and anxious after she left (a common reaction for me after visiting with my loved ones), he was quick to remind me that I, too, had the exact same quality as my sister – that I too light up the universe when I walk into a room and that I needed to tap into that and start digging myself out of this hole. It was weird…I knew he was talking about me. And I knew that he was right, but I felt and still feel so far from that person – the person who lights up the universe when they walk into a room.  I brushed off his comment, but it stuck with me. It stuck with me because it was startling how far away I feel from ‘that person.’ The person I was before all of this. I know I still have those qualities. There are many times of joy and believe me, now more so than ever, I don’t take those times for granted, but the weight of my sadness and anxiety sometimes outweighs that joyous and happy side of myself. I want to be able to cope with all of this so much better than I’m doing now. I want to dig out of these holes of depression and anxiety faster and not allow the seemingly smaller things to effect me so much…if only because these things are going to keep happening and more frequently. I need to be able to adjust faster so it doesn’t impede my life. I am trying…god..I am trying.

And after a while we lost a real connection
And I realized there’s others using the time we’ve been spending…
I’m still lost, holding in all of the [grief] at the bottom of the ocean

I’m still working on digging myself out of the current hole so I’m focusing on small victories today: I cycled this morning in the park, I brought my healthy meals to work, and I’m going to workout at the gym at lunch. Another friend told me to remind myself about all the good things that I’m doing and all the good things that are coming up for me, so I am repeating those things in my mind constantly as I write this. It’s all very remedial, but sometimes you have to go back to the basics in order to build resilience for the present and future. When the foundation shakes, you face the problem head on, you build and rebuild, and then find the joy again.

And I thought you’d be my savior
I was distracted, unaware of [your] behavior
But when I started drowning I didn’t know [you were] the anchor.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive…and felt like a huge part of me is dying all at the same time. Split in two.

Being aware of my feelings and not being afraid to say them out loud or to write them down is half the battle so here’s to small victories. Onward.