Paralyzed with Grief

 Entry 1.  11:12 a.m.

Thanks to all of you who attended the celebration yesterday, and those of you who couldn't attend but sent kind words instead. At the event, I, who have been a hermit for the last many weeks, greeted and spoke with dozens of people who wanted to express their condolences. I hadn't thought about that really, until the night before. I soldiered through it, and it was really lovely to hear all the people expressing their love for Jenny and well wishes for the kids and I. 

I should say, the ceremony itself was one Jenny would have loved, opening with her sister Chris speaking, and closing with Wake Me Up Before You Go Go. Others including myself,  filled the spaces in-between. 

I made a passable slideshow, which I never bothered to revise, save to remove and replace the one picture of toddler Moni that somehow fell into the mix. I couldn't watch it. I would cry as soon as it started rolling and I could hear Iris Dement singing the opening lines of After Your Gone. 

Amy, Jenny's BFF, cancer survivor, and teacher, made teachers teacheresque poster board displays and brought a lovely scrap book made of the trip she took with Jenny to NYC some years back. 

The sun was out, I was dressed in black, but never sweated, never got hot. When it was my turn to speak I read a carefully crafted eulogy focusing on Jenny's relationship with students and colleagues. I spoke of how she embodied, "Love thy neighbor as thyself." Every word spoken was true, as was every omission. Maybe I'd have been included in that love if I had moved next door to her. 

I was so emotionally exhausted last night, I came home and skipped the family barbecue. However, I did fool myself into believing my depression had slightly abated. I think the adrenaline and endorphins kicked in and fooled me, because today, I am laid out flat, pondering the feelings of futility I have, pondering the loss of the most important person in my life, and moving forward without her. I am stuck again, knowing and believing she had fallen out of love with me long ago. Despite kind words, support, and my conviction she had a mental illness as a partial explanation for the cluster of behaviors from raging and lying to adultery, gaslighting and amnesia about past events, I still hold myself accountable for staying in the water even as it was approaching a boiling point, in effect shouting to anyone who would listen, "The water's fine, come on in! "

I feel grief today more heavily than last week, last month, the last three months. I want to curl up in a ball, crawl into a dark hole and stay there, just stay there.The funny thing is, that is already where I am.

Comments

  1. AnonymousJune 12, 2022 at 7:52 PM

    ❤️was thinking of you yesterday and today and holding you close in my heart. KW

    ReplyDelete

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