Hm, where to begin. I wish I could say I’ve found some answers and peace, but that’s not true. I’ve only stopped asking the questions, because they were circular and unending. And peace ... well, part of me is afraid I’ll never feel that again. There’s an unsettled feeling that accompanies my daily activities, the ever-present feeling that something is “not right”. Because well, it isn’t. I find I often tell myself things like, “You weren’t together that long, why are you so sad? Why can’t you get on with your life? Come on girl, death is everywhere you’re not the only one.” But these thoughts are often followed by, “We barely got a chance together, what I wouldn’t have given for 30, 20, 10 years more. My life will never be the same. This pain will never leave me.” Regrettably these are the thoughts that get me in a slump. My heart seems to have finally accepted that the one it loves is no longer here. While that makes me sad, I “get it” now. But the pain. Oh the excruciating pain that is left behind ... that will drive me crazy.
Speaking of crazy, I’ve found myself caught in a web of “medical attention”. Through the advice of literature (and the behest of my mother), I’ve successfully found a doctor who has diligently sent me for blood-tests and the like to make sure everything is working as it should internally. I am told grief can do a number on one’s body. I may have even worried this poor doctor a little, when I described to her in blunt honesty some of my “bad days”, to which she promptly referred me to a psychiatrist. Good ol’ Dr. Walt then proceeded to “order” me to write out my weekly schedule, and prescribed me a social life, which I must participate in whether I feel like it or not. I have set times for physical activity, set times for missing Gavin (for some reason, writing and saying his name feel harder lately ...), times for work, and times for friends.
Oh, and did I mention the grief therapist? Yeah, I’ve got one of those too. Apparently I’m doing alright with physical coping, but the emotional coping could use some attention. How does one cope with emotions they don’t know how to control, cannot resolve, and are afraid of? Well easy, you simply don’t pay them any attention. But apparently that’s not what I’m supposed to do, so I have homework for that too. And reading. I’ve started at least 3 books in the past 5 months, only to set them down around chapter 3 because the emotions they bring up are exhaustingly heavy and I’m truthfully just tired of being sad. But slowly, I guess I’m working through them. Maybe I’ll write my own book at the end of all this. “A Widow’s Guide to Healthy Grieving.” But I’m not really a widow ... which is another uncomfortable thing. I lost more than a boyfriend, but I didn’t lose a husband ... but anyway. I don’t want to think about that.
So I guess I’m at a spot where slowly, very slowly and delicately I have been able to gather some of my broken pieces and place them together again. There is some measurable healing, but they do not come without opposing darkness. I honestly cannot say I am experiencing much hope or peace though. Now I’m left to figure out how to incorporate Gavin into my future, without him here ... it’s harder than one would think. Everything I do or plan, there is the lingering thought in the back of my head, “What would Gav think?” One thing I do know, is that when one of my doctor-triad told me to imagine how I’d feel showing my Master’s degree to Gavin, I burst into anguished tears knowing he will be so so proud, yet I won’t get to see his face. So that’s at the top of my list ... as daunting as it feels and I know it will be. The rest will come in time I suppose ... For you Gavin, I will roar!
P.S. I love you.
-chelsea.
Speaking of crazy, I’ve found myself caught in a web of “medical attention”. Through the advice of literature (and the behest of my mother), I’ve successfully found a doctor who has diligently sent me for blood-tests and the like to make sure everything is working as it should internally. I am told grief can do a number on one’s body. I may have even worried this poor doctor a little, when I described to her in blunt honesty some of my “bad days”, to which she promptly referred me to a psychiatrist. Good ol’ Dr. Walt then proceeded to “order” me to write out my weekly schedule, and prescribed me a social life, which I must participate in whether I feel like it or not. I have set times for physical activity, set times for missing Gavin (for some reason, writing and saying his name feel harder lately ...), times for work, and times for friends. So I guess I’m at a spot where slowly, very slowly and delicately I have been able to gather some of my broken pieces and place them together again. There is some measurable healing, but they do not come without opposing darkness. I honestly cannot say I am experiencing much hope or peace though. Now I’m left to figure out how to incorporate Gavin into my future, without him here ... it’s harder than one would think. Everything I do or plan, there is the lingering thought in the back of my head, “What would Gav think?” One thing I do know, is that when one of my doctor-triad told me to imagine how I’d feel showing my Master’s degree to Gavin, I burst into anguished tears knowing he will be so so proud, yet I won’t get to see his face. So that’s at the top of my list ... as daunting as it feels and I know it will be. The rest will come in time I suppose ... For you Gavin, I will roar!-chelsea.
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