Posts Tagged ‘sad’

A big congratulations to my dear blogging friend Joe Hart . He has a double celebration going on. A one year anniversary for his blog and an amazing 200,000 hits. Joe Hart through his writings is such an inspiration. If you haven’t visited his site, you really are missing out.

I have been asking myself, do funerals have to be sad, or at least sad to the extent we often see. I know there will always be an element of sadness with the passing, the loss of a loved one. That is understandable and perfectly normal. I do sometimes wonder though, we as a society are so much affected by the expectations of fitting into the norm. What is the norm for a funeral. It seems great sadness, shows of grief and such. I am not a doctor or a man of the clergy and as such can speak with no authority and am only expressing my own personal thoughts and preferences. I am very sure open displays of grief as we see are very therapeutic for many and help in the healing process. If it is a helpful tool for those left behind, excellent I am all for it. I certainly mean no disrespect to those grieving. Grief is a very individual thing and whatever form works best for you, it the way to go. When there is a loss of a loved one there will always be sadness and grief, I know that.

Still for myself and within myself I have to wonder, is it the only way to get closure? I don’t know.

I have long had the thought in my head. “mourn not what you have lost but instead celebrate what you have had”. I do think this is an excellent philosophy to apply to all things in our life. Good advice, easily said but so difficult to put into practice when it deals with the loss of a loved one. This is a thought though that did help me tremendously at the time of the passing of my loved ones. This is not to say, I wasn’t sad or grieving, it is just that it did help me.

I suppose largely, it will depend on your individual view of death and what follows. At the time I had absolutely no doubt in my mind she was going to a much better place. I still do not question that thought at all. It doesn’t mean I don’t miss them. I can’t help but be happy for them (sad for me) knowing they has indeed gone to such a wonderful place and that when the time is right I will be with them again. Again, words so easy to say, but so difficult to appreciate when in the midst of grief.

Largely, I am not fearful of what lies ahead for me, a little nervous maybe but not fearful. My dread and fear comes in when I think of the loved ones I am leaving behind. I so desperately want them to all have good happy lives. I never want them to ever have any pain or grief in their lives. OK, I know that is an unrealistic hope as some pain and grief will come to all. I can only hope I am not the cause of any of it. Yet it is inevitable when I pass there will be grief and sorrow.

I am certain in some way, in some spiritual form I will be able to attend or look down on my own funeral.

What would I personally prefer to see. My family and friends all gathered in great sadness, in obvious pain or a reasonably happy group gathered to reminisce about our happy times together. Celebrating and I hope appreciating our time together. Laughing telling jokes even if they are at my expense, I certainly know I have given every one enough to be able to come up with some sort of a joke about my often silly ways. Celebrate what we had, instead of mourning what is lost. The loss is only temporary.

I am not sure how this transition from the physical to spiritual works, but I can’t help but think I may be aided on my way knowing, my life gave reason for a celebration.

Maybe, this is a final act of selfishness on my part, I don’t know.

I ask for comments. Can we turn a funeral into a celebration of life? Would doing that take away from the healing process of the families?

Yesterday, was not a good day felt tired most of the day and today is starting off the same. I keep thinking maybe, instead of fighting the tiredness, I should just throw up when the feeling comes. May be it is nature or something, I don’t know, but I fight the urge until the end. When, I am feeling that way, controlling the tiredness is the only thought in my head. I need sleep. Ah,well when a day starts off like this you know all it can do is get better, always have that to look forward to.

My administrator’s site, here on the blog, allows me to see the wording people put into their search engines to find my journal. Most often are inquiries into how to talk to the dying or on what it feels like to know you are dying.

How does it feel to know you are dying? That is a difficult question, because the answer can be different from day to day or even from hour to hour. The feeling, range from denial, to fear, to guilt, to anger, to sadness and to acceptance. It is the same, I suppose, as any grieving process. You can’t work your way through one set of feelings and neatly move on to the next.

It is almost like being at the beach, standing in the water on a windy day. A wave comes at you and almost knocks you off your feet. You struggle and regain your balance, just in time for the next wave to hit. Over time, the strength of the waves subsides and you think your footing is a little more secure. Suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere another large wave hits and you almost lose your balance again.

I suppose that pretty much describes the grieving process for anything. You can be hit by wave after wave of denial or anger, whatever, each wave trying to knock you down. The emotional waves don’t hit in any particular order or strength. Gradually, these waves do lessen in strength or intensity and you come to the peacefulness of acceptance. You are still not out of the water, and at anytime a wave can suddenly come back and hit.

Over time these emotional waves become less frequent and less severe. For me acceptance came almost as a relief. Knowing, I would not have to deal with the roller coaster ride of emotions, the ups and downs. Am I totally free of these feelings, no. I don’t really know, if I ever will be totally free. As long as you are alive, how can you be totally free of your feelings? Accepting them is one, thing being free of them is another? The waves have just been downsized and more easily manageable.

Maybe, I am still in an element of denial. I know what people say (2012 impending). I just don’t think it is going to happen any time soon. Is that denial or just the human spirit pushing us on? I don’t know. With acceptance does that mean I have given up? No. Does that mean I have lost the will to live? NO. All it means is I am ready to go when God calls me, but not one minute before that. I do not fear death; I just want to delay it as long as possible.

I shouldn’t feel this is sad and emotional right now. I finally got through my final weeks of the semester and am confident that I did pretty well but so far the results are awful. Furthermore, I’m going to start working a few more hours, which will be a big help financially.

But two things are heavy on my mind, and right now – now when it’s quiet and everyone is asleep and I have a little while, my first while in three weeks, to think – it’s all just making me really sad and achy.

Mom started to get sick yesterday and woke up sicker this morning, and as the day’s progressed, I’ve seen her get sicker and quieter and more and more unlike herself.
These feelings grow more intense as night hits. I was up most of last night waiting, if mom needs anything, and tonight will be no different. This means I can barely function during the day, and coupled with the fact that all last week I went to bed between 2 and 3 AM, I’m a ball of exhaustion. Mom wants Dad by her side but I want to be there all the time.

And what this all means is that the later it gets, the worse I feel. In worrying about mom and what I would do if she gets really, really sick, I feel this giant pressure on my chest – this anxiety and loneliness that almost paralyzes me, because this almost feels too big for me. I’ve never yet failed in an emergency, but what if…? And days like today I realize all over again that it’s just her, dad and me, and I have to have the answers and the strength and the quick thinking… and all that just feels so fucking heavy and painful right now. I’m dying to talk to someone and vomit this shit out of myself. My siblings are blessing who are always there when I need them, and friends who force me out for dinner so I feel better.

On top of this is something I’ve been avoiding dealing with but don’t think I can anymore: my business. I love this crappy little place so much, but I really don’t think I can keep up with it anymore. And while I can make ends meet and am not destitute, Over the last week or so, it’s become clear that I need to snap out of it and find a solution.

I’ve been dancing around this issue, unable to bear the thought of losing business I love so much, feeling nauseous at the thought of packing all my crap up (and having to get a storage unit again). I’ve considered getting a partner in, but can’t embrace the idea. I don’t want to deal with a stranger, and even with a friend…

But then I go back to the general uncertainty in my life: I don’t know how long the recession is going to keep affecting me personally. I don’t know what lies ahead, relation-wise. It’s enough to have gone through everything I’ve experienced this year: the economy kicking everyone’s ass; realizing I hate my field so badly that getting laid off wasn’t such an awful thing; realizing I’m 20 and in need of a new career, and the fear and uncertainty that comes with that.
So…. ugh. I have some deep thinking to do and some big decisions to make. This is an incredibly busy month for me, and I know this will be occupying space in my brain as I try to make the right decision.

But right now, I just have to get through this night with the cozy blanket. I don’t know what is going to happen next. Enough shit… Now Dad is even depressed, he has got this deadline to shut his business down by the first of next month. He is happy and usually laughs at it, saying “I’ll enjoy rest of my life at home” but I am sure this feeling is killing him for sure…

I’ve been in a funny place these last couple of months. This new life of mine is very much my own, and I’m happy with it. There has been, among all the other more negative, sadder feelings, a deep sense of gratitude for whatever it is that’s allowed me to believe and feel and know that although my life did not pan out as I wanted it to, it is still a good one, and many wonderful things lie ahead for me.

Time and distance have done a lot in offering me a great deal of perspective: with my studies and – what it was and why it was that way, and my role in all of it – and on myself – who I’ve become and what I want out of myself and my life. And this is good; I’ve needed it.

But even as I feel more settled here, there are still things that feel like transitions, moments where I feel in-between two lives, and my mind sometimes pauses and catches that moment, a recognition that my old life is further and further from me and the resulting feeling is, most times, bittersweet.

I see now things I couldn’t see before and so many emotions that I carried with me for so long seem distant. Even the ending, the time when the life I knew imploded and those awful, awful months followed – the intensity is gone. There are quick flashes where I’m suddenly aware – wow, that’s not my life anymore; wow, what a crazy-ass year I’ve had; wow, 10 years down the drain and I’m in my TEE-age now – but they last nanoseconds, slipping from me before I can even touch them.

I think about the choices I have, when life changes so abruptly. When you get past that initial shock, that feeling of being punched square in the gut – you have choices. Do you hold on and insist that those moments were the one, and there will be never be another? Do you stay put; holding on to the memories, building a new life around a past that time has anyway altered? Do you allow the rage to take over and drive you to hurt people – intensely – till your own pain is satisfied? Do you push it all away and refuse to deal with any of it? Do you allow yourself to believe that after the darkness there will indeed be light, and it will be beautiful?

When the dust finally settled for me, there was one startling feeling, one thing that I still sometimes feel a jolt over if it crosses my mind: the life I’d chosen was not the life meant for me. It was not the thing that was right for me. That’s it right there: it was not right for me. And that was such a difficult thing to fully accept, to believe, because it was something I’d chosen and tried so hard to make it work, make it good. But considering that the business has ended, what else is there to believe? Clearly, I was wrong about the depth and strength I’d prescribed to that fantastic start that lead me to a dumb hole. And resisting against such a stark reality didn’t make much sense.

It was a hard thing to wrap my mind around, that I was wrong, and what I expected to be, to just be and stay, was not the thing, after all, that would last or sustain me. Or the place where I would stay. And I don’t mean this like in that immediate way – relationship’s gone bust, it’s over, gotta start over. I mean it in a much deeper way, touching on the things that brought me and my friends together and that made us stay together, and in a way that extends beyond those first months after the ending, the first year, and settles into you. It wasn’t just that we couldn’t make it work; it wasn’t just that shit happened and we ended. It was that – if it ended, and there was no reconciliation, and there was light and hope after all the pain and sadness – then that was just not for me. It wasn’t my destiny; it wasn’t the thing that would never let me go; it wasn’t the end of hope and beauty.
So whatever comes from here – it will be mine to fully embrace. I can walk into it openly and freely. I can let my pain and sadness have their space because they are now as much a part of me as anything else. And I can accept this new life, let its wonders move me – and I can dive right in. The group of friends usually revise down to a very few honest ones, and this is life. People usually are too mean to continue relations with or they usually fuck you hard at times.