I Get it.

Death.

My dad said that sometimes grief leaves you sideways. I understand that in concept, but don't think I fully comprehended the fullness of the statement until tonight.

It's like one of those games where you place your forehead on the end of a baseball bat and then spin around in circles until you feel sick....with the idea that you are then supposed to run forward to the finish line.

In life, one will merrily be going along their way when grief sideswipes them, leaving them stumbling...doing their very best to move forward, but spending most of their energy just trying not to fall down.

The "stumbling" and "careening" takes several forms: anger, tears, exhaustion, the need to take care of everybody else, sarcasm, laughter, self-absorption...
I'm still trying to think of more - from my own experience and from others.

Peaks and valleys. I laugh in the peaks, I cry in the valleys. The tears flow easy. I'm waiting for stable to return...but I'm not giving myself a deadline for that one.
It's interesting - I was able to allow myself the freedom from guilt over not crying yesterday. The thing I keep getting caught up on (or feeling guilty over) is my laughter. My humor is dark - boarder line angry and sarcastic. See me stumble sideways.

I wish people just knew without me having to talk about it. I'm tired of talking. Once I start, it seems I can't stop. Or I get pity. I don't want pity. I want compassion. I want prayers for my family. But I am so ____ tired of trying to be strong - and knowing that while I'm doing it I'm trying to be strong...when I don't have to. It's okay for me to fluctuate - to feel "okay" at one moment, and then a few hours to not be okay. I'm just rolling in the waves of grief, not trying to fight or control them - as if I could. I want people to know or understand what I'm going through and then just be with me.

So, I'm here...just trying to figure this out. It's nice that my stress-level has lowered enough to the point where I can organize/express my thoughts (verbally or written) a little better. I just wish...I wish...

I wish I understood myself a little bit better. I wish I understood why I feel this way...
Yes, it's the loss of a relationship. It's the ultimate "goodbye" (or "see you later" in this case) for the girl whose always hated goodbyes. It's helping those I care about carry their grief - and I really wouldn't have it any other way. But, relationally speaking, Bill wasn't integrally involved in my life. I've lost a step-grandparent: a tiding of things to come for the rest of my family, my friends, my loved ones, and for myself (and my descendants). Death - it gets us all in the end. But still, I don't know why I feel it this sharply...as my friend put it, "torn up."

Numbness is death. In this life, you're either living or you're dying. There is no in-between. Things that live feel (the question of plants aside). If you're not feeling, you're not living.

I feel like I need to be writing. It helps me clear and keep track of my thoughts. And I've had so many of them lately, they almost seem to be jumbled. Almost. I'm actually amazed at my ability to keep track of it all, actually...

End.
(I know. It's abrupt. But so is...nevermind. I'm just sideways again.)