Day 12

softening into the pain

For me, the opposite of pain is peace. Peace is something that feels like home to me, even moreso after going through this grief. The grief, you - you feel like chaos and stress and anxiety and sleepless nights and eating weird things and diarrhea and snappiness and busy-ness and chores and obligations and the smell of doctor offices and internet searches and that sick room smell that I still can pick up on occasion and pushing back the tears and denial and love. yes, you feel like love even through all of those shitty things because it is a natural progression, losing one's parents.

I don't try to push you away. I actually absorb you. I think some of you rests in my subconscious and always will to some extent. At least that's what I think today. That may change next week. You are always evolving, and that is exhausting. Yes, another word for you is exhausting.

So for me the opposite is peace. It's what I strive for. I want quiet. I want the love of my family and friends. I want no conflict. Although at times you make me lash out which creates conflict. so there's that. But that seems to be getting better. I seem to be getting a handle on it. It's no surprise that the worst of you came out during the week I returned to work. Returning to work made everything we had gone through final. But I'm not ready to be final. I'm not done with you. 

I do seek peace. I seek perspective. I seek laughter and light and love and harmony. I'm thrilled to have had the four days now strung up in a row in which I've been able to be present, be productive and laugh.

You do keep me from getting invested in worrying about someone though. I have a friend who I'm concerned about right now. You let me know in no uncertain terms that there is no way that you will permit me to concentrate on someone else at the moment. Yes, my mouth says I worry, but my heart isn't into it. I now know what true emotional distress is and I don't feel that. That's reserved for you, when you choose to make yourself known. I'm good putting my concern for others on the backburner and being present with you and with peace.  

I had so much time to say goodbye to mom. So many moments. They pop in and out of my  mind. I paused just now to look at a picture of her. A certain feeling of peace comes first before you settle into my bones. Sometimes I think I'm not allowing you to fully come in; sometimes I think you're just such a part of me that you've come to stay and I'm just getting used to your company.

I want peace. I want softness and gentle and warmth. I also welcome the pain because it makes me feel connected to Mom. Perhaps I'm learning they can co-exist in a way that makes me able to be happy as well. I find I cannot get invested in what is going on in the world. It's chaotic and scary and nauseating. I want my bubble and so I'm sticking to it for now, letting in only what feels safe.

welcoming the pain because it is a part of the human experience and a part of me is truly grateful that i'm alive and able to evolve and feel these emotions and that I was able to love someone so deeply that I get to feel this pain for her.