Tuesday, July 29, 2008

return of the numbness

I don't know if it's normal to have the vague fuzzy feeling like thinking through a pillow re-emerge four months after a death happens. But it has. I feel as if I'm trying to catch glimpses of things as I spin in circles. I can see that things are there but the edges blur and smudge together. I'm late for things all the time...okay, even later than I was before. I can't keep my bloody mind 'on task' and forget where/what I was doing or going.
It was getting better. Maybe it was the large whiteboard that I stationed in the living room to help remind me of the obligations that need attending to. Maybe I was beginning to heal a minute amount (this is what I was hoping).
But whatever reprieve I had from the chaos and confusion of a muddled mind has ended. Fuck. It makes me crabby. I always think I am forgetting something (which I am) and I can't rest or let my mind cease the constant flurry of thought. It's a numb, yet intense feeling. Like walking barefoot through really deep, COLD mud. Slow but sharp.
My only reasoning for this is that grief is not a steady road upward. There are twists, setbacks and road-blocks. I've hit a big-ass speed bump.

11 comments:

Kimberly said...

Hi Jackie,

We need to talk...I am also a widowed wife of two children. Friend of Matt's please email me!

juanita said...

Hi Jackie,

So, um...not to sound like a grief groupie (god, what an awful thing to be), but I found your blog when Matt linked to it.

I just wanted to reach out and let you know I have been catching up on your posts and am as glad as one can be to have found a widow's blog.

I certainly don't know what you're going through, but I did want you to know you're not suffering alone. You and your sweet babies are in my thoughts, just as Matt and Madeline are.

p.s.
I'm so, so sorry about your Eli and the extra helping of heartbreak you have to deal with. As if your heart could break anymore. For what it's worth, if it's worth anything at all, a stranger in California is sending you many positive thoughts and wishes.

Cindi said...

I've also come here from Matt's blog. I can't even imagine the emotional rollercoaster you are on.

There's so much more I would love to say, but it's all been said before. I wish I could offer you the promise of healing and a very bright future, but unfortunately we all know that there are no guarantees in life.

You and your family will be in my thoughts and prayers.

Hudson said...

Jackie,
I've been reading your blog for a couple weeks now. I'm so sorry to hear that you've hit a speed bump. May the well wishes of strangers and the love of your children carry you over it as smoothly as possible.

Hawkfeather said...

I am sorry the way your feeling seems so unsettling to you..

sending love and support.

Rach said...

'Crap, poo, bum.' I know a child who used to say that and I think its a great turn of phrase and can be used in many situations. You are definately having a 'crap, poo, bum' time.

We are here for the ups and downs, in whatever way we can.

xxx
PS - I know you wont think I am making light of this but I am sure some people will...

Bonnie said...

I have no experience with this, but it just seems normal that you would be going through "ups and downs" (lousy description, I know), especially throughout the first year. So what if months have passed? Every new season will bring activities, old haunts, memories that you used to do together but now must get through alone. You were finally getting through spring, but now have to face summer. And perhaps Eli's last season. You are perfectly right to grieve, for however long that takes. We are checking in to your blog because we care about you, whether we know you or not, and we don't expect to see anything other than what we see. You and your little ones are always in my thoughts, my best to you, Jackie...

about denise said...

Still here...Just so you know.

Chris said...

Jackie - I have been reading your life for awhile now. Not sure why I never commented before now. Just want you to know that I am sending you love and support from THE mn. you already know this, but your kids are absolutely adorable. i am glad they are there loving you unconditionally.

(((hugs to you)))

Anonymous said...

Sigh.. sadly my long lost friend I do know exactly what you are going through. Sitting here, snot dripping, tears falling.. I wish I knew you were here (Ucluelet) I would have loved to have connected.

250 726 2507 is my number. Here is my web, in case you may not remember me.

http://web.me.com/melodycharlie/My_Life/Welcome.html

melodycharlie@mac.com

Let's journey together... this messed up rollercoaster.. you are not alone.. we are not alone.

Hugz
Melody

Crash Course Widow said...

I was totally numb--totally functional (although I had occasional crying spells or meltdowns), social, and "healing" relatively okay (so I thought then)--for about the first 4 months after Charley died. And then I hit the beginning of November (which was almost 4 months out for me), and the shit hit the fan. In hindsight, 4 months was when the acute, immediate shock and numbness started to wear off.

So what you describe in this post really doesn't surprise me. And you're right--you will go through waves and lulls where the grief ebbs and flows. And you'll go through them for a really [bleep]ing long time. The whole first year is so torturous...and then I actually felt worse long after the first year. The third year wasn't as hard, per se, as the first year (if you can even split hairs to that degree), but god, I felt so much worse the third year.

Everything you've described over the last 4 months sounds perfectly normal to me, from what I've learned the last 3 years of widowhood--both from my own personal experience and from those of other widows I've met (both online and in person). Take it as a small solace that you're not a freak of nature or the only to feel this way....

Hang in there, Jackie. Sending you some big hugs and buckets to catch your tears.

~Candice