In about 3 months, we will reach the day.
It’s a day that looms large for all who have lost someone. People seem to think that in the first year you are grieving and “getting over it”, but the way I see it is that for that first year you are just surviving, just getting “into it”. Slowly being forced out of sedation, to face your injuries. (The biggest one being a hole in the heart. And for me, also a hole in the brain.)
Making it to the anniversary of his death, will be a fucking testament of my survival. It will also be a tough, tough day. And, unfortunately, the hard work is still to come. I knew it from day one. This is going to hurt, this is going to take a while.
Yesterday, I saw a job that I am interested in. It’s in an entirely different field, but one that I’ve been wanting to transition into. My heart lept when I saw the job posting. I thought, that’s it! My chance!! It’s what prompted my post yesterday about following my heart, because my heart has been racing with anxiety and excitement ever since I saw it. I read the description and thought, I am all those things. I can do those things! I have those skills. I will work on my resume and apply. See what happens. If nothing, then fine, it wasn’t meant to be. Go for it! That’s the “old me” talking! Good to see you! Where have you been?!
Then last night a storm hit. Like in “Back to the Future “. The “new me” met the “old me”, and it got trippy. My future got funked up.
What if something does happen? What if things click and I get an interview? What if I were actually to land the job?! No no no, says the “new me”. You used to be a multi-tasker, you used to be extremely capable, you used to be all those things, but the reality is, you are not that person anymore. I hate to say it, but you are damaged, dented. All the things listed in the job description are areas in which you are currently deficient, girlfriend! What are you thinking? You can’t even handle making it to your current job on time, let alone remembering to put mascara on both eyes.
Death messed with by brain, people. Grief is still messing with my brain. And it sucks! I want someone to confirm this for me, that I am not imagining this shit. That’s right, your brain was altered. See the scan? You’ve got a friggin’ hole in yo’ head! Don’t expect the same things of yourself.
Last night another thing hit. Not only am I still injured, but the “new me” is also alone. Hole-in-my-heart alone. I don’t have my side-kick to help me see my way through decisions. To encourage me, to help me stay on path. And the path…it has changed, too, damn it. A career change was something I had been thinking about, that we had discussed, in order for us to start a family. But now everything is different. I don’t know what my motivations are. I don’t know what my direction is. I don’t know why I am doing anything. This, too, sucks. Excuse me for being ungrateful, but I don’t want a cheerleader who’s cheering from “heaven”. I want him here. I need him here, in the flesh, my soft-hearted bull-dog, the man who cried because he was proud of me for negotiating a raise in my current job.
I only slept 3 hours last night. Now it begins. The lonely road. Anyone who mistakingly thought I was on the “lonely road” last year, let it be known, I wasn’t. I just got here. I am barely getting started. Hello “old me”, may I introduce you to “new me”. Argh.
I have one memory that always brings me to tears. About a week before we took my husband to urgent care to check the “bump” on his head, he drove home from a business trip in a snow storm, arriving at 2:00am, completely exhausted. He was stubborn and determined. He did not want to spend one more night in a hotel, he was going to make it home to sleep in his bed, through hell or high-water, as they say.
He made it home, driving hundreds of miles, navigating the nauseating conditions of driving into falling snow, in the dark, headlights of on-coming traffic, through side winds , snow-drifts, and gusts, while unbeknownst to him (or me), suffering from a massive brain tumor. How’s that for a dent to the brain, an incapacitating condition? It makes me feel sick, that this effort was so much more heroic than we even knew. He made it home despite the big-ass dent in his brain. Poor, sweet man. I wish I could rub his head, give him a hug, tell him I love him, tell him I am proud of him.
But getting back to my “future”. I take it as a good sign that I even noticed the job, as many things slide past my radar right now. I don’t know if I will apply, I don’t know if I am ready, but it’s a step forward that I am even thinking about change…my new life. I can see these positives. Sadly, though, it’s also a reminder of what I have lost, my husband, my partner, the person who I had a path with, the person who had my back, the most important thing in my life, gone. A big hole, torn into the map of what was my life, our life together. I can only imagine how it’s going to feel when I sell his truck, sell our house, tackle his closet.
I know. One day at a time. But it’s hard, when just the thought of change lets loose an avalanche.