sortacurious' Blurty

Subject:	Two Whole Years
Time:	12:05 pm.

I think the next few weeks will be filled with processing for me.

Can it really be two years and two days? So much has happened since then that I suppose it’s possible to have been that long ago. Then again, I don’t see how I could have woke up, opened my eyes, brushed my teeth and faced 732 mornings without my brother in this world.

Briefly last night I let myself wander back to the posts I made here during that time. Wow, I was so factual, typing medical details surrounding his condition as if those were the most important things of the moment to process. Where were my feelings? As I read the words I had typed all those feelings that were running through me at the time came flooding back and I expected to read about them a moment after feeling them. But there was nothing typed about how I thought I might die of such intense pain myself. Nor was there any other indication of chaos, confusion, sadness. “Please, just the facts, Ma’am”. I should take a closer look at that sometime…it raises more questions.

(I also noted the compassion and love in the replies from Tricia, Tina, and Misty too. I’m very blessed and still feeling the comfort from their words.)

Have I adjusted to life without him? Do I miss him less? Has the hurt and grief loosened its grip on me? Am I ready for the rest of my life to go on while he is not a part of it? I asked myself these questions repeated over the last couple of days. The final answer to each is a loud, echoing NO! No, it will never feel right. No, I miss him still with every breath that I take, just as intensely as ever. No, I still feel the clutches around my heart with an ever constant threat of my own undoing. No, I still feel panic and am nauseated just thinking of making a plan that doesn’t include him.

So, what has changed to make it seem I’m doing better? I can only believe I’ve gotten better about how all of that feels. It is not that any of those feelings have alleviated in any way, I’ve just gotten more accustomed to them and recognize them for what they are when they hit hard. Each night as I lay down I say a little prayer and then my mind wanders off. Inevitably my thoughts strike on something about Billy. Something I want to tell him, something I want to plan to do with him, something he said or did once and then it hits me full force. He’s gone. He’s not coming back. Then comes intense (yet now familiar) pain accompanied by thoughts and questions on how I can go one more day. Or that image from a dream of his last conscious moment, the moment of impact will flash in front of my closed eyelids. It still shakes me to my very core, but I have gotten used to this enough to not be shocked when it strikes. Without the alarming surprise, I can walk myself toward a tool I’ve found and away from the intense anxiety.

This tool is remarkable to me, although probably quite simple and common to most people. I learned how to force images and thoughts from my head. I’m actually very aware of re-directing my focus any and every time my mind wanders too dangerously close to upsetting thoughts of Billy. For a long time now I’ve been proud of myself for honing in on this ability. It is quite a feat for someone who’s most natural coping skill during unpleasant emotions or situations is to typically dissociate to one level or another. Yes, I’ve even patted myself on the back for what seemed to be a major victory in redirecting my patterns. But is this healthy healing? Or am I avoiding--using conscious thoughts to distance myself from pain--as an alternative to letting my sub-conscious do it for me? And if that is what I am doing, well then the reality is that I’m not facing reality still yet.

About this time in my self-analysis I get to the place of realizing this is all just too big, like a giant toy box filled with torture devices. Logic tells me those jagged-sharp edges are not to be played with. I talk myself right into the cliché, “Let nature take its course”. So that is where I once again re-direct to something more pleasant, something I can look at.

Twice now, a very thoughtful and kind response has been left by Shiloh_hill. Each time, I’ve felt so touched by another person reaching out to me, reaching out of nowhere at just the right time. Yet, each time, I have neglected to let this person know just how nice it felt. I have every intention of visiting her journal and trying to let her know. Until I do, I hope she is still reading, sees this postscript, and knows I appreciate her! Thank you!

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